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yandearest · 4 years

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May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 2: Training Day

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 7.2K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Previous Chapter: 1

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

Training began the following morning at 10am, although when you woke for breakfast at 8 Namjoon was nowhere to be found in your living quarters. Finnick informed you that Namjoon had left to begin early as you elected for a bowl of cereal instead of the array of foods presented on the dining table. To anyone else the spread of pancakes, syrup, pastries, bagels, bacon, eggs, sausages and other delicacies you weren’t even familiar with would have appeared mouth watering. But in your state it all just looked like cardboard. You didn’t trust yourself to be able to keep anything down but knew you had to at least eat something so you wouldn’t pass out later.

You tried to make the most of the one on one time with Finnick, listening as he talked about the range of stations that would be inside the gym. For the most part he seemed to suggest being a shadow to the rest of the careers, “play along and act dumb so they think you trust them and are too stupid to make plans for yourself”. Your best bet of survival relied entirely on them underestimating you and you being able to correctly time when to stab them in the back (literally) before they disposed of you.

Once you finished barely eating, you dressed in the capitol provided athletic wear; a fitted black T shirt with decorative panels of silver and gold along the sides and the number 4 emblazoned on your sleeves, along with a pair of just-below-knee-length black leggings that also featured the same silver and gold design as a strip on the sides. After tightly lacing up your sneakers, and tying your hair into a high ponytail, you took the elevator from the floor of your living quarter down to the basement where the gym was located.

You had no idea what you were expecting, perhaps something similar to the warehouse gym back in 4, but the spacious room that you arrived in was definitely not it. To start with, despite being under ground beneath an apartment complex, it looked like it could easily fit at least five warehouses inside the space. There were so many stations set up you wondered how it would be humanly possible to even attempt all of them within your three-day time limit. There were more weapons here than you had ever seen in your entire life combined; what appeared to be a parkour racing course, a rope climb, fire making equipment, a knotting station, something that looked like a paint set up, a tablet with symbols (what use that was supposed to bring you had no idea) and many other things you weren’t sure of. A large digital clock was mounted in the middle of the wall at the back, near a rock climbing wall, displaying the time as 9:45AM. You tried to swallow down your nerves as you scanned across the room looking for Namjoon. You found him easily at the weight section, bench pressing a large barbell you didn’t care enough to read the weight on. It seemed like a pretty basic scare tactic of trying to intimidate the other districts with his strength, but it didn’t have any impact on you because you were already aware.

“What’s muscles over there trying to prove?” a sudden voice at your side caused you to start, whipping your head to see Krystal next to you. She didn’t quite smile but there was an amused look to her eyes and a little quirk to the corner of her mouth.

“Holy shit please don’t sneak up on me like that in the arena, I will literally die of a heart attack” you exhaled with an awkward laugh at the end.

“Wouldn’t be the most painful way to die in there,” Krystal retorted with a shrug. She looked different compared to last night, but you supposed you could say the same for everyone if you compared them in an elaborate costumer to their gym wear. Her sleek black hair had been braided into two French plaits down the back of her head and secured into twin buns on the bottom.

“Touché,” you agreed but quickly moved to shift the topic away from you dying. “To answer your question Namjoon’s probably trying to intimidate some kids into thinking he’s going to bench press them to death.”

Krystal gave an amused hum before gesturing towards her fellow district mate Yoongi who was lazily sitting against the wall nearby. Training hadn’t even started yet and he looked like he’d much rather be asleep. It was hard to think of him as the confidently spoken cape wearing tribute from yesterday when he was now slumped against a wall. If anything he looked quite adorable.

“We just got here, have you seen 2?”

“No, I just got here myself, Namjoon came early to get extra training in”

You looked around the warehouse again trying to spot a familiar head of copper hair or Athena’s cropped blonde pixie cut but couldn’t see either of them for now.

“If he wants to wear himself out before we even get into the arena that’s his business, but if he pulls a muscle or drops a barbell on his head, I’m not carrying him,” Krystal muttered as Namjoon grunted lifting his weights up a final time before slamming them back on the rack.

“Agreed.” You murmured whilst Namjoon finally spotted you were here and nodded towards you and District 1 in recognition, before walking over. Krystal and yourself both gave half hearted waves in reply, Yoongi looked like he had actually fallen asleep and didn’t do anything.

“Hey,” Namjoon greeted wiping his forehead on his shirt sleeve and taking a drink from his water bottle. As much as you had made light of his workout before the fact he was barely out of breath after lifting more than twice your body weight was pretty intimidating. “Have you seen 2 yet?” You were about to tell him what you had just told Krystal when a raspy voice spoke from behind you

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Turning around you saw Hoseok and Athena walking out from where the elevators were nearby. Athena looked almost unrecognizable in comparison to her warrior outfit and smoky make up from the night before. Her short hair was pushed back with a headband and her face much rounder. She was definitely shorter without her heeled shoes and her body type much curvier than what her costume showed. Whilst Athena, Yoongi and Krystal all looked softer without their costumes and make up Hoseok somehow still managed to radiate the same aura from the tribute parade. His form fitting T-shirt and pants (in the same design as everyone else’s) accentuate his lithe build. The tights he wore showcase the definition of his calves and thighs, along with how long his legs were. The definition of his abs could be seen through the black shirt and his biceps were on display. It appeared he didn’t need any bronzing powder or contouring make-up to sharpen his facial features; his high nose and cheekbones were still just as prominent and his jawline just as sharp. He ran a hand through his hair, which was disheveled from not being styled, but somehow still managed to look good anyway.

When you make the mistake of looking into his eyes you can see that there was definitely no make up involved in the intensity of his stare from yesterday, it’s still just as unnerving this morning. The corner of his lip pulls up into a smirk as he sees you assessing his appearance and he has no shame running his eyes over your body.

“Nice of you to show up,” Namjoon grunted, clearly not impressed with the way Hoseok was staring at you again.

“Relax we’ve still got five minutes until we’re officially mean to start” Athena said as she stops beside Namjoon. She strikes up a conversation to try and distract him like Hoseok had told her to do. Why exactly she was following his instructions she didn’t really know, but she didn’t particularly care to upset him at this point so she simply played along. Namjoon was easy enough to engage, all she did was ask him what he had been doing to work up a sweat and he immediately leapt into a description of the circuit he had been training.

Hoseok moved to take the spot between Athena and yourself.

“Morning love,” he whispered under his breath, touching your elbow gently and leaning down slightly in a way that’s only intended for you to hear. You shudder at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting against the shell of your ear and curse your body for it’s unconscious reaction.

He pulls his hand away just as quickly, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention, but wishes he could maintain some form of physical contact. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that in the arena,’ Hoseok assures himself watching as your cheeks flush that same rose color they did last night. He can’t explain why, but something so simple as your blush makes him feel ecstatic. Oh the things he would do to you to see what else makes you flush that pretty color for him again.

“Hey,” you reply, trying not to break the eye contact out of fear it could be taken as a sign of weakness. He’s tall so you need to look up, but you’re not that short either so it’s not a high angle. You’d estimate the top of your head reaching around his nose if you had to guess.

“I’ve been dying to ask this since seeing you yesterday, but what is an angel like you doing at these games?” his voice is still low, but not as quiet as before, as Namjoon continues to elaborate on his morning work out whilst Athena pretends to care.

“Uh same reason nearly everyone else here is, my name got pulled out the bowl,” you tried to casually respond with a shrug but knew the devastation would have been showing in your eyes. There were some things you just weren’t capable of hiding, and your fear at your situation and imminent death was one of those things. “And you?”

Hoseok frowns and you wonder if you somehow said something wrong but then he softly shakes his head.

“Volunteer,” he states and you swallow with a nod, unconsciously shifting backwards a little. His very appearance is lethal so it really shouldn’t be a surprise at all that he’s signed himself up to slaughter people like you, just the same way Namjoon had.

“Right, I mean you’re a career,” you shrug again looking across at Krystal, Athena, and Yoongi, wondering if they were volunteers too.

“Hey,” his hand was back on your elbow again, he didn’t give a shit if the others saw him. The feelings he was already experiencing towards you had just been intensified immeasurably by the fact you were innocent in these games. He didn’t know how to possibly describe it; all he knew was that from all the words that existed, in all of the languages in the history of mankind, there would never be a way to explain it.

He saw the tremble in your body whenever he looked at you, the shudder earlier when his breath met your ear, surely you had to feel something towards him too. There was no possible way that these emotions he was experiencing could be contained in just one body, you had to be sharing this experience. Was this a ‘soulmate’ that he had only read of before in passing regarding outdated literature? He had never been the kind to believe in fate before, as far as he had trained his whole life to believe, his only destiny was to win the games and bring honor to his family. But as you stood before him, for only the second time in his life, he just knew that you had been preordained for him.

At his age of eighteen he had experienced love in some capacity before, his parents, his sister, a few close friends and a couple of girlfriends here and there but none of those emotional connections compared to you. Surely you would feel the same way about him too, but of course as the poor reaped tribute that you were, you were too afraid to be able to focus on him right now. He was furious you were even here, how dare none of the other female trainees from 4 volunteer to save your precious existence. How cruel the forces of the universe were, for gifting him with an angel only for her to be so close yet still so out of reach. These intense emotions were far too much for one person to ever experience alone, so somehow he must be possessing part of your emotions for him, because you weren’t capable of focusing on anything more than survival right now. His poor defenseless angel, how much you needed him right now.

That must be it. A trial from beyond these games where he would have to earn not just this victory but a way to make you experience your love. There had to be a reason why you were here, it’s because it was for him to prove himself worthy of you. Oh how he wishes you could have met outside, after his victory tour when he went to 4 and he could just pick you from the crowd and make you his. But that would’ve been too simple. Yes, a love like this only came once in a lifetime, he was certain, and he would need to move heaven and earth to somehow save himself and you. But there had to be a reason that the universe had put you together right at this very moment. There had to be a way for him to save you both, and he knew he would kill anyone and everyone who got in his way.

“I promised you last night, I won’t hurt you, and I meant it,” he said, squeezing your elbow – not tight enough to hurt – as if trying to implore you to believe him. His hand felt warm and his hold was firm, shooting a tingling sensation down your spine. You tried to suppress the physical affect his touch was having on you, knowing nothing good could possibly come out of any attraction. You hated just how strongly your body was reacting to him, wondering why the hell he was trying to flirt before he would inevitably try to kill you, and why your body was liking it. But even though you were a tribute, ultimately you were still only human.

“Hoseok, you literally volunteered to kill me, it’s fine,” you began as a small voice internally added ‘well it’s not fine really but that’s besides the point’. A look you couldn’t read flashed in Hoseok’s eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could speak.

“I’ve seen enough of these games to know how the career pack works. I’ll help you guys and when it comes down to the end I’ll just try as hard as I can. There’s only one winner and look at you,” your eyes were on his torso because you couldn’t bring yourself to maintain the eye contact as you spoke. The outline of his pectorals and abs that were visible through the fabric of his shirt, compared to your barely toned figure in comparison, did all the speaking in that regard anyway. Looking down at his grip on your elbow, you could see how the fingers on his large hand nearly wrapped all the way around your arm. His own biceps would easily be twice the size of yours.

“Look at Namjoon,” you subtly gestured to your much larger district-mate, “and then look at me.” You weren’t exactly unfit, all the years of physical labor from working on your family’s boat had helped give you some muscle definition, but it was nothing compared to a trained killer.

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lyi-”

Hoseok’s objection was cut off by an announcement coming from the other side of the room. It was now 10 am and everyone had to attend a briefing in regards to how training worked. Hoseok scowled at the interruption before quickly dropping your arm to avoid suspicion from the others.

“This isn’t over,” he whispered, as you followed with the others to where a dark skinned woman stood in the center of the room. She introduced herself as Atala and ran through the basics of how the next three days would work. Her commentary about dehydration and infection being as much of a danger in the arena as the weapons was particularly interesting to, you wondered if Namjoon had spent as much time on his survival skills as he did on his fighting in the old warehouse back at 4. You doubted it. You also noticed a window on the wall that your back had been facing when you entered the room, where a room of mostly men in suits with eccentric beards and wild colored hair styles were sitting on lounges. Atala introduced them as the game makers who were here to observe, sending a shiver of disgust throughout your body.

Before being allowed to focus on the stations of your choice there was a tribute wide assessment on four of the obstacles: Monkey bars, a fire making station, a memory game (which explained what that strange tablet thing was) and a one on one physical combat match with a Capital trainer. The monkey bars were first and tributes were to perform in the order of their district numbers. You were mildly surprised by how Yoongi went from appearing lethargic to swinging across the bars with ease, but as a career it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Krystal and Athena both had no trouble and Hoseok flew across the rungs twice as fast as the others. You swallowed a nervous lump in your throat when your turn came, feeling the pressure of being in a career district and having all eyes focused on you. Upper body strength had never been your strong point, and you knew the furthest you would probably be able to get was around the half way mark. The girl from 3 had struggled and fallen off nearly immediately but you still didn’t want to fail, especially not with Namjoon breathing down your neck behind you. Back at home you had needed to climb around the boat before in order to make repairs, which suddenly gave you an idea.

Jumping up to reach the bar, you used the momentum to swing your legs through and up onto the next bar in front. Hooking your ankles under you pulled your legs through the gap until you were hanging by your knees. With your weight now more evenly distributed you were able to pull yourself up and awkwardly climb over so you were then on top of the bars. From there you tried not to look down at the long fall onto the thin mat below and crawled your way to the other end before lowering yourself back down when you reached the other side.

“Unconventional, but effective” the person who was responsible for measuring the times and taking notes muttered as they scribbled down something on their clipboard.

“Not bad, spaghetti arms” Athena nodded her approval, her own arm muscles were probably close to the same size as Yoongi’s.

“Gotta know your own strengths and weaknesses,” you smiled back with a shrug. Your time was much slower than the others – Namjoon racing across the other side in a speed to rival Hoseok, right after you were done – but it was still better than not even being able to complete the course at all.

The other assessments were pretty much non eventful with predictable results. You performed decently in comparison to other reaped tributes but were definitely lacking compared to the rest of the careers. You could also detect a bit of rivalry beginning to brew between Namjoon and Hoseok as they tried to one up the other. Hoseok was the faster of the two to light a fire but Namjoon was quicker in being able to solve the memory puzzle. Both of them landed ‘lethal blow’ scores against the capital trainer in their sparring match (you had managed to land a simulated hit of the heel of your hand to the capital trainer’s nose which had counted as an ‘incapacitated blow’ – not a bad score).

With the mandatory grading over you were then given individual feedback along with suggestions on recommended training stations before breaking for lunch. After all the exercise you couldn’t help but feel much hungrier than you had before during breakfast, and helped yourself to a sandwich, along with an apple and a bottle of water from the provided catering. The feedback had been handed out on a card, in order of the district number, before you were dismissed for lunch, and you didn’t pay attention to where 1 and 2 had walked off to. Wanting to be alone anyway you walked around a corridor into an empty hallway and took a seat on the floor against the wall. Leaning back, you raised your knees and rested your elbows on your legs as you scanned across your feedback card. You noted there weren’t any grades or scores, but merely recordings of the time it took for you to complete the activity and a short written assessment next to each. At the bottom were the suggestions for which areas to focus on over the remaining days.

Your evaluation had described you as ‘a dark horse’. The Capital had picked up on the career’s alliance and noted that you were the physically weakest of the six members, however they gave you commendation for unconventional problem solving during the monkey bars. The primary suggestion was focusing on weapons based training in order to stand a chance of survival when the time came for the careers to turn against one another. There was also a suggestion to train more on agility based exercises that played to your existing skills, rather that bothering with weights or physical strength stations that would be impossible to build in such a short time.

“How did you go?”

The sudden voice and presence at your side, whilst you were intently focused on reading your card, caused you to jump and nearly swallow your last mouthful of sandwich down the wrong way. You managed to just catch it with an awkward choke, reaching for your bottle of water to swallow it down properly. To your absolute humiliation, you looked up to see Hoseok standing above you with an amused look on his face.

“Uh, fine I guess,” you muttered, fiddling with the card in your hand as he sat down beside you. “You?”

“As expected,” was all he replied with. You nodded awkwardly. You had seen him perform before you in all of the tasks and sail through each of them with ease. ‘As expected,’ meant nothing less than perfection for him. You couldn’t help but wonder if your death was going to be by his hand, and if that would just be ‘as expected’ for him as well.

“Let me see your card.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words were caught in your throat (much like your previous mouthful of sandwich) as Hoseok easily pinched your card out from your fingertips and passed you his along the carpet in return. Frowning, you picked his up, to at least pretend it was a mutual exchange.

“Did you swap cards with the others?” you asked, wondering why he was interested in your report. You skim read across his, finding commentary about Hoseok’s speed, skill and lethality, along with a note stating him as a lead contender, nothing that you weren’t already aware of.

“Nope,” Hoseok dismissed, lips pursed as he read your card much slower.

You frowned at this, passing his card across the floor and reaching over to try and grab yours back, only for Hoseok to lazily lean to the side away from you, with a hint of an amused smile. You let an annoyed huff of air out.

“So why are you reading mine then?”

At this Hoseok paused to raise an eyebrow and make eye contact with you over the top of your card in his hands.

“Because I don’t care about the others.”

He found the stunned look of confusion on your face to be absolutely adorable.

“But…” you paused, not even knowing what to say. Shouldn’t he at least care for his own district mate? Granted you didn’t care much for Namjoon but you were at least somewhat going along with him for the sake of presenting a cohesive alliance. And if he didn’t care about the alliance then what was he doing here with you? The implication of his statement was quite clear that he somehow cared about you, so what had you possibly done to warrant his apparent attention.

“Why?” was all you could eventually ask.

He lowered your card to the floor and slid it back towards you, leaning across with it. You predictably reached to pick your card back up and he instantly took the opportunity to put his hand over yours. You flinched and attempted to pull back, but his grip only tightened, forcing your hand to remain below his much larger one.

Your pulse began to rapidly accelerate. You knew he couldn’t harm you, not until you were in the arena. But to be alone and so easily caught and toyed with, by someone much more powerful than you, was frightening. You looked up from his hand to his handsome face, trying not to tremble as Hoseok stared back with a lazy smirk in place. The thumb on his hand over yours was softly stroking the skin around your wrist and you could swear your heart was pounding so fast he had to be able to feel your erratic pulse.

“Because I need you to be with me at the end.” His husky voice was a low murmur, as he leaned in closer again. Your hand remained clasped tightly below his

“So you can have an easy kill, because I’m weaker than the others?” you frown, knowing your assessment would have told him as much. But Hoseok was quick with a denial.

“No.”

“Then why?” You pushed, growing frustrated with his indirect answers and your hand still trapped in his. Hoseok only tilted his head to the side and released a sigh, looking highly amused.

“Don’t you trust me? You know I’ve promised not to hurt you darling,” his low voice grew quieter still, barely above a whisper, causing you to lean in so you could hear him better.

“Darling?” You balked at the endearment. Whatever answer you could possibly imagine coming out of Hoseok, it definitely wasn’t that. “Hoseok I don’t know what kind of game your playi-”

“You’re not a game to me.” He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. Undeterred you rushed to speak again.

“But we’re literally in The Hunger Games and one of us is going to have to kill the other. And you and I both know how much easier it would be for you to kill me, than the other way around.”

“Oh so you find the thought of killing me unbearable?”

He quirked his eyebrow with a smirk and again you tried to yank your hand back in annoyance, but he only moved his grip further up to clasp tightly around your wrist. His long fingers easily wrapped all the way around, as he then pulled your arm back towards him, causing your upper body to lean further forward. Unconsciously you let out a breathless whimper in shock, your faces now so close you could feel his breath fanning across the side of your cheek.

“I… I don’t even know how I can kill anybody. You’re the volunteer here and clearly the better fighter between us so you would easily kill me in a final two,” you whispered, trying to turn your head away from his, only for the side of your face to press against the wall.

“Oh but darling you’re wrong, to kill you would be to kill myself.”

The hand that wasn’t pinning your wrist to the ground moved to cradle the side of your face, his fingers threading into your hair and thumb running along the top of your cheekbone.

“Hoseok, stop.” You raised your free hand to push against his chest, but he was solid as a rock and didn’t even budge. Instead he only curled his torso in towards you, pinning you in place against his body and the wall. You whimpered in fear, eyes scanning the hallway trying to find a way out, only for Hoseok to press his nose against your temple and lips to the shell of your ear.

“You may not even know it yourself but I can feel it in your pulse how your heart calls for me. Every beat I feel beneath my fingertip sings to my own, that already belongs to you. If you were to die, my heart would have no need to beat without the one it beats for.”

His deep voice was a seductive purr as his breath against your ear sent a shiver throughout your entire body. His hold on your face forced you to look back into his eyes once more, which held the same intense passion you had seen in them last night.

“How c-can you even say something like that, it hasn’t even been a day s-since we met?” you choked as you felt tears beginning to sting in your eyes.

“Because I felt it the second I laid my eyes on you, and seeing you again this morning only made me feel a hundred times stronger.

“Please stop, I’m going to be dead in a week so can you please just not turn my life into some sick joke,” it was all you could do to beg as the first tear spilled from the corner of your eye, his thumb below easily wiping it away.

“I’m. Not. Joking,” he hissed, each word punctuated by his fingers burying into your hair and clenching tightly at the roots, causing you to gasp as more tears spilled out.

“You’re hurting me,” you whimpered, the hand on his chest reaching up to try and pull at his hand that was holding onto a fist full of your hair. His grip instantly released, his hand moving to grab onto yours and thread his fingers in between your own, before squeezing tightly.

“Not as much as you hurt me whenever you try to deny me,” he retorted, pulling your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon the back.

“What do I possibly gain from a game perspective to choose you as my final partner? You said it yourself that you’re the weakest so that means I’ll need to protect you from the other four when the alliance turns. And believe me princess, I will. I’ll slaughter every one of them in cold blood. I’ll snap the neck of anyone who so much as harms a single hair upon your head. I’m going to kill them all for you baby, and I’ll make you watch so you can see just far how far I’ll go for you.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you whispered brokenly, tears spilling freely from your eyes now.

“Because,” Hoseok dropped your hand to grab ahold of your chin as his lips moved in closer. When he spoke you could feel them brushing against yours “you’re mine.”

But before Hoseok could firmly press his lips to yours in the kiss he longed for, a sudden shout broke the atmosphere he had worked so hard to build.

“YN!”

You never thought you’d be relieved to hear the sound of Namjoon’s angry voice barking in your direction, but his appearance around the corner and into the hallway caused you to exhale a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“What are you both doing here?” Namjoon growled, angrily striding towards you as Yoongi, Krystal, and Athena followed behind him.

Hoseok, who had his back turned to their direction, scowled in anger at the disruption, before quickly masking his face to a neutral expression. The sudden change in demeanour causing you to flinch.

“I found this one here having a bit of a breakdown over her report card,” Hoseok said, lazily getting to his feet and shooting you a wink as your jaw dropped in shock at his smooth and blatant lie.

“No! I- I…” You immediately went to protest only for the words to be caught in your throat. It would just be Hoseok’s word against your own. And who would believe you? His words were so insane you could barely even believe what he had just been saying.

“It’s ok YN,” he purred, as the others walked over towards you. You angrily got to your feet wiping your eyes, not wanting to be a crying mess on the floor in front of the whole group. “I was just telling her there’s no need to worry. First day freak outs can happen to the best of us.”

“I’m fine,” you scowled, crossing your arms and glaring at the floor and seeing the damned report card laying on the carpet.

“I just wanted some time to myself and if anything having someone around only made it worse” you bit back.

“Very well then,” Hoseok smirked raising his arms in a mock surrender gesture and waving his hands theatrically. “Excuse me for trying to be a good teammate.”

“I didn-” before you could rip into him, you were interrupted by another.

“Can you all give me one minute to talk to my district partner,” Namjoon grunted at the others. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, grabbing a hold of the top of your arm and dragging you further back up the hallway. You didn’t know what was worse between him bossing you around since the train ride or Hoseok’s crazy confession, but what you did know was that if anyone else tried to manhandle you again you were going to take your chances on your own in the arena. It had only been one day and you were rapidly growing sick of this alliance. You’d rather die with dignity on your own than be dragged around like a dog’s chew toy.

“Let me go,” you hissed, when you were far away enough not to be overheard, grabbing his hand and ripping it off your arm. Namjoon just rolled his eyes before staring down at you from his tall height.

“What the fuck was that about?” he asked.

For a moment you breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to convince Athena or District 1 about Hoseok losing his mind would be one thing, but Namjoon was your own team mate. You vaguely knew each other from growing up in the same town. Maybe he might actually believe you. Glancing back to the others you saw them chatting amongst themselves, Krystal was now holding your report card and Yoongi gave a dismissive shrug to something Athena had just said. As if sensing your gaze, Hoseok glanced across to make eye contact. The corner of his lip curled up and he cocked his eyebrow smugly as if to say ‘go on and tell him, see if he believes you’. You scowled at him before turning back to Namjoon and grabbing a hold of his arm (missing the way Hoseok’s nose twitched in annoyance at you initiating the physical contact with another man).

“Namjoon, please, you have to believe me,” you began, instantly lowering your voice as you squeezed his bicep imploringly – your hand didn’t even wrap halfway around the much stronger boy’s arm.

“What happened?” he asked bluntly, eyebrows narrowing into a frown.

So you told him. Speaking as quietly as possible and trying to rush through the details as fast as you could, you hurriedly told him about how Hoseok had found you alone and stolen your card, before pinning you against the wall, claiming you were his, and threatening to kill all the others. You finished by telling him how it was only through the rest of the group showing up when they did, that had stopped Hoseok from kissing you.

“It was humiliating,” you hissed out, trying to choke down the lump in your throat that had built up as you were recalling what happened.

“I don’t want to be in the career pack anymore, I can’t do it, not with him.”

You looked up at Namjoon, begging him with your eyes to believe what you had just said.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

You dropped his arm and visibly recoiled as if his words had physically hit you. As far as you were concerned he may as well have.

“Some pretty boy spouts some Romeo and Juliet bullshit so you want to leave the best chance either of us have for surviving this thing? How can you actually be that stupid?!”

You were fuming. How dare he just dismiss what had happened to you like that. You had taken a leap of faith, hoping that as your own team mate he would believe you, and instead he had virtually spat in your face as a response.

“I’m not stupid Namjoon!” You sneered. “The one year my name gets called out is the one year no girls volunteer because they knew that you were going to. If the girls who have spent their whole lives training know they can’t beat you, how the fuck do you think I feel right now? Maybe it’s easier for you because you’ve actually got a chance in these games, but I’m going to die. And none of this is my choice, you actually chose to be here! You were the one who said on the train that you wanted us to join the career pack, so I did! And now I’m the one being harassed, not you! Stop treating me like a child because I’m not just a pawn you can tell what to do until you decide to kill me.”

“If you don’t want to be treated like a child then stop acting like a pathetic fool over the first boy to give you some attention. Do you think your pretty little face is somehow special enough for Hoseok to actually fall in love with at first sight?”

“Of course not!”

“You should be thanking me for pulling your head back in from whatever deluded little fantasy he’s trying to spin. Are you that stupid you can’t tell he’s just trying to divide us so you want to work with him instead of me by the time we get to the end game? At the very least you and I know each other and I guarantee you, in that arena it’s better the devil you know”

You wanted to point out how you were the one to tell him about Hoseok, and clearly were trying to work with Namjoon instead, only for him to berate you, but logic was out the window by this stage.

“Is it? Cause it sounds to me like you’re just keeping me around until you decide to break my neck when it’s convenient for you,” you snapped instead.

“That’s how alliances work sweetheart. You watch my back in the pack to make sure 1 or 2 don’t just slit my throat in my sleep. I drag your ungrateful ass around and make sure you aren’t taken out by some amateur who wouldn’t know the difference between a liver and an intestine. Is that how you want to die? Bleeding out for hours after being stabbed by an untrained idiot and spending your final moments in agony? Would you rather die by someone beating your head in with a rock because that’s the only weapon they know how to use? Let’s see how beautiful you are with your skull smashed in huh. Or do you want to go from starvation or hypothermia because you’re lost and all alone?”

You were absolutely stunned. He was expecting you to just follow him around the arena like a little puppy, where the only incentive for doing so would be his definition of a merciful death? Before you could tell him where he could shove his alliance, your argument was cut off by the approaching voice of Athena.

“I don’t know what kind of little lover’s quarrel you two have got going on here” you could swear you heard a warning growl from Hoseok “but get your shit together. We can’t have infighting in the alliance, especially before we even get into the arena. You,” a point at Namjoon, “stop treating her like shit. And you,” a point at you, “Stop looking like you’re about to cry. You’re a career for fuck sake, a cold blooded killer. Even though you’re obviously not, you at least need to look like one to scare off the other tributes otherwise you’re going to be the lowest hanging fruit they try and pick off first.”

You stared blankly back as Athena kept talking. The other tributes. You had been so preoccupied thinking about Hoseok and Namjoon’s cruelty, you hadn’t even considered your position without them. By now you were established as a career in the eyes of 18 other tributes, regardless of if you wanted to be one or not. From the past years of the games you knew that the other districts would take any opportunity they could to eliminate a career that somehow wound up on their own.

You were completely and utterly ruined no matter what direction you chose to go.

“Hoseok, Namjoon, you two are coming with me to the obstacle course run for a few hours. We need to do some teamwork after you two had your little dick measuring contest before in the graded courses. You two need to do something to make it look like you’re unified because right now because that’s something other tributes can exploit. Krystal, YN, and Yoongi will go to the rope tying station so YN can help us with knots and show off that she’s actually needed in our alliance to the others”

Namjoon nodded curtly whilst Hoseok clearly looked more annoyed at the idea of being split from you and having to work with the Namjoon. However, he quickly covered his expression and nodded as well. Athena gave each of them a shove on the shoulder to get them moving and they walked off out the hallway and back into the training compound.

You took a deep breath, grateful to have a break from either of their presence before looking between Yoongi and Krystal. They didn’t seem particularly interested in you, their sharp eyes and beautiful features were relaxed into a neutral expression that only suggested boredom. That was perfectly fine with you. As a fisherman’s daughter you were indeed well versed in knots and grateful for the reprise which would allow you to spend some time on something you were actually confident with.

“Alright, show me where the knotting station is”

Note: This story was originally a one shot in my mind and has now reached a planned 6 chapters. Aha. I suck.

Ideally I wanted the 'before the games' section to just be one chapter, but found it was starting to get too long after this reached over 7000 words and I still have the other training days, final assessment/grade out of 12 and the interviews with Caesar to cover (those will be in the next chapter, with the games starting in the update after)

The concept of the assessment came from the 1st movie where Atala (the woman who does that ‘in 2 weeks most of you will be dead’ speech in the training centre) mentions a mandatory assessment, so I just worked with an idea from that.

This chapter hopefully showcases more of Hoseok's Yandere nature along with establishing just how much or a horrible character Namjoon is (I swear I'll do a better fic of Namjoon as the lead soon).

#yandere hoseok #yandere bts #bts x reader #dark bts #dark jhope #y!hoseok #hoseok x reader #yandere bts fic #HUNGER GAMES AU #hoseok fic #hoseok au #hoseok x you #yandere jung hoseok #dark bts au #yandere

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whatisthiscontentyouspeakof · 4 years

Text

Guardian of Light

So for anyone wondering, I don’t have an update schedule at all, just posting when I feel like it, mostly to avoid going to bed. This chapter gives you some information and a flashback to Marinette’s past before she was found unconscious in Paris.

Would it be helpful to you guys if I put Marinette’s age at the beginning of each section so you have an idea of how much time has past between each part of the story.

AO3 First Previous Next

Chapter 4: First Days

(Age 3)

Marinette was used to her colourful bedroom so when she awoke in a room that was completely white she was confused. There was no blue ceiling with fluffy white clouds and glow in the dark star stickers, no lush green mountains or fields with fun little animals running around, no giant stuffed animals or anything of the other things that were in her room.

Confused, she was about to call out for her Maman and Papa when she remembered the birthday party in the park and the strange man that had taken her away. Tears started to form in her eyes as the fear came back.

“None of that now.” A voice said. Marinette turned her head to see the man who had taken her standing in the rooms’ doorway. “Crying is for the weak and the weak are unacceptable here.”

“I want to go home,” Marinette said. A part of her wanted to suck on her thumb but that was something babies did and she was three. Not to mention she had a feeling that if crying wasn’t allowed, then neither was thumb sucking.

“Whining is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself,” The man said. “As for going home, there is no need; this is your home now, Niu.”

“Niu?” Marinette repeated, having never heard the word before. The man had pronounced it ‘nee oo’.

“Your name,” the man said.

“My name is Marinette,” she told him, confused. He had called her it in the park after all.

“That was the name of a weakling, of someone insignificant and worthless,” The man’s voice was cold and mean sounding. “Niu is your name now. You will respond to it. You will not ever respond to Marinette ever again. If you do not follow either of these rules, you will not like what happens. Failure is not acceptable here. Marinette is dead as of today. In her place stands Niu, someone who will be worth something, who will make a difference in the world. From this day on, you will be training with me and the other Guardians so that you can reach that goal. When you are done with your training and have shown us that you are worthy of the title of Grand Guardian you will be able to earn your own name.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Guardian Zhu. I will be your teacher from this point forward. To fail or to be weak here isn’t just a short coming on your part but it also negatively affects me. As such, I expect nothing but perfection from you. If you do not perform to perfection then you will have to face the consequences, and trust me when I say, you will not like them. Now get up. It is time to eat and then I will be showing you what chores I will be expecting you to do every day upon waking.”

Marinette’s chest felt like lead. She swallowed before swinging her legs over the bed and standing up. She walked over to Guardian Zhu, her head looking down at the ground as her heart pounded; her entire body trembling as she walked.

Guardian Zhu whipped around, his hand reaching out and slapping her straight across the face. Marinette fell to the ground, one hand reaching up to touch her face in shock. “You will answer me with a ‘yes Master’ when I speak to you.” Guardian Zhu said sternly.

Marinette looked up at him, her heart pounding. “Yes Master,” she whispered.

(Age 12)

Marinette walked calmly down to the bakery, her parents already down there and working for the day. She would have normally been down there, learning their trade the same way she had every other day, but today marked the first day of school for her. Her parents informed her that she had been in school and with her class the day she was taken but as far as she could remember she had only been taught by a parade of different tutors from across the world. The largest group of peers she had learned with had been four, and that had only been on the one occasion, with most of her other classes either being just her, her and Nuri, or her, Nuri and his cousin, though it was rare that Mara was allowed to learn with them. The rest of the Fist weren’t allowed to ever train with her or Nuri since they were seen as so below them. Never had she been in a class full of strangers.

“Morning Marinette,” Her father greeted from where he was kneading some dough.

“Morning Tom,” she greeted. She and her parents had agreed that it was a bit too soon for her to call them anything but their names. She was waiting for some sort of ‘special’ occasion to call them by any paternal nicknames, though she was unsure if she would ever truly view them as her mom or dad. She wished she could talk to Nuri about this. He would know what it was like to suddenly find himself living with a biological parent that was more stranger than parent.

“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Sabine asked her, having just finished ringing up a customer. The only one that had been in the bakery. The calm before the breakfast rush.

“I have all the suggestion supplies and a few of my own,” Marinette told her. She wasn’t sure what she expected from classes, she didn’t need them after all since she was guaranteed to be farther ahead in her own studies, but they were going to make her seem like a normal kid. She just had to remember to get a question wrong every once in a while and not to see eager to answer questions.

“I meant mentally, sweetie,” Her mother said.

Marinette shrugged, something that would have gotten her smacked at the very least if she’d done it at the Temple or League, but was something she’d seen Chloe do regularly enough that she assumed it was something common among Paris school children. “I see no reason not to be ready. It’s school. I listen to teachers talk about subjects, I socialize, I eat, I go back to class, I come back here.”

Sabine just smiled at her like she was missing something. Why would she be nervous about school of all things? It’s not like she was scaling a cliff wall during an earthquake without any equipment. “If you get overwhelmed or anything like that you can come home right away and we’ll let the school know you weren’t feeling well or something,” Sabine offered.

Marinette smiled at her and thanked her for the offer even though she was sure she wouldn’t need it. It was the polite thing to do after all.

“Here’s your lunch,” Tom said, handing her a stack of tupperware. She placed it in her bag and looked up to see her father handing her a box with the bakeries logo on it. “A little treat to share with your classmates on the first day of the year.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said smiling up at her father. He just offered her the perfect chance to get to know her classmates and decide which ones would be the most useful to be on friendly terms with.

Marinette was about two steps out the bakery doors when a limo pulled up long the crub. The window rolled down to reveal Chloe.

“Get in,” she said.

“The school is literally across the street,” Marinette protested. “Why don’t you get out and walk?”

“Because I’m wearing heels,” Chloe said. Marinette couldn’t really argue against that. Even the Temple didn’t make her wear heels unless absolutely necessary.

Marinette climbed into the limo, realizing there was someone else in the limo. “Hi I’m Marinette,” she said, putting her hand out for the other girl, a red head, to shake.

The girl gripped her hand, firm and professional. “I’m Sabrina Raincomprix. Sorry we haven’t met yet but I’ve been with my mom in Scotland. Divorced parents and all that. But Chloe told me how she made a new friend. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Marinette smiled at the girl. “Same.” she said politely.

She looked the girl over noting that she looked a bit uncomfortable in her skin, though Marinette couldn’t tell if that was because she was self-conscious or she wasn’t comfortable in the clothing she was wearing. She’d bet that Chloe had picked this girls outfit out for her the same way she had for Marinette. Not that Marinette minded; it gave her a better idea of youth fashion in Paris.

Sabrina was wearing a pair of purple flared dress pants with a blue button up and dark grey blazer. Her shoes were mainly white with black toe covers, laces and soles. She had a white headband in her hair and a pair of red toned brown glasses sitting on her nose.

Chloe, on the other hand, wore an outfit of black and yellow. Actually, Marinette couldn’t think of a time in which the heiress wasn’t wearing black and yellow. At least it made buying gifts on her birthday easier if Marinette went the clothing route. She wore a black pleated skirt with balck tight and black belt. She wore a ¾ sleeve yellow shirt topped with a shiny black tie. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and with a pair of black sunglasses sitting on top of her head. Her heels were black with gold little bobbles that suggested buttons, and red underbottoms hinting to their designer origins.

Marinette had decided to wear the outfit Chloe had sent her. One, she was still trying not to rock the boat, and two, Chloe would know better than her what would be popular to wear on the first day of school. Marinette could study all she wanted but there were only things you could learn first hand. She wore a dress which had two different colours, separating the top and the bottom to give the appearance of her wearing a skirt and top. The skirt of the dress was royal blue in a half circle style. A black belt, it was really just a strip of fabric sewn into the dress, sat just below her waist, creating a drop waist silhouette. The top of the dress was also black with ¾ sleeves and a large curved neckline. Chloe had sent her a pair of black kitty heels but she had decided to wear flats and her hair was pulled up into what would be a ballerina bun if Marinette’s hair wasn’t several feet long, the layers in her hair creating a messier, more teenage, version to the perfect bun of professional ballerinas.

The limo pulled up to the curb in front of the school. The three of them got out and Chloe’s driver pulled away. Sabrina and Chloe started to head into the building but Marinette grabbed Chloe’s arm before she could get too far away.

“Why does this place feel familiar?” she asked the blond, the only person outside of her parents who knew of her kidnapping and knew her before it had happened.

Chloe looked at her paling a bit as she came to a realization. “Our old school, where we attended Maternelle, used to be here. They bulldozed it the year after you were taken,” CHloe whispered to her. “They built this school here last year when they decided to decrease class sizes in Paris and needed another school.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. After a moment she shrugged. “Hey, what better way to start a new chapter of your life then to close an old one.”

(Age 13)

There was an energy in the air when Marinette awoke that had not been there before. Something was going to happen today, she just knew it.

Marinette glanced over at the clock seeing that there were only a few minutes left until her alarm would go off and decided to get up anyways, knowing she could just say she was excited to start the school year if her parents made a comment. She didn’t know what they had against her waking up so early, they were bakers after all, but she tried to seem like she was sleeping in during the school year. She’d already been up at the wee hours of the morning to go for a run, both on the ground and across the rooftops. She wasn’t about to let herself get out of shape.

Marinette got dressed for her first day of class, slipping on the outfit that Chloe had picked out for her, once again gifting her and Sabrina with new clothing for the first day of school. Unlike the year before, Marinette’s style no longer shifted towards dark clothing, instead taking on a brighter and more colourful and inviting colour scheme, finding that it helped her fit in more and make her seem kinder and more inviting instead of cold and aloof. Not to mention she no longer had a tactical advantage with wearing darker colours that she needed to concern herself with.

This year Chloe had gotten her a pastel pink chiffon floor length skirt, something Marinette would never have picked for herself, but found herself liking it. It was also easy to hide her throwing daggers beneath the flowing skirt. She wore a whtie tank top that she did some white on white embroidery on since the outfit had arrived a couple of days before school started and she wanted to experiment with something new. She wore a light grey fisherman rib knitted sweater over it, which had actually been a hand knitted gift from Sabrina for her birthday. Judging by the texture of the yarn it was cashmere, and had likely been bought by Chloe. She had slept with curlers in her hair, leaving her hair in a nice wave before she pulled it back into one of her favourite styles, a messy bun. It hid the true length of her hair well and kept it out of her face while she worked, the messy nature making her seem more like a busy youth.

After a quick breakfast Marinette heads off to school, a box of Macarons from her dad for her to share with her classmates. She had convinced Chloe that they could just meet at school this year instead of having the blond pick her up in a limo, which meant she had to follow things like crosswalk lights, the one leading from her parents bakery to the school having just turned red when Marinette arrived. Sighing, she moved into a more relaxed position to wait only to see an old man half was across the street and a car speeding towards him.

Not about to let an old man be squished, it would put a bad spin on her day and she didn’t feel like dealing with the police, Marinette rushed forward and grabbed the man by the arm. A slight spark went through her and she glanced down spotting a bracelet on a leather string with a turtle in the middle. The spark that had come from the man could have been static shock but Marinette had trained long and hard enough to know what it felt to make contact with someone else who had trained to be a Guardian. This was the man who had all but destroyed the Order of Guardians, running off with the First Miracle Box and apparently wielding the Turtle Miraculous.

Marinette dropped her pastry box, making it appear as if she had stumbled a bit as the two of them made it safely back onto the sidewalk, reaching into her pocket to grab a tiny tracker that would look to the untrained eye to be a small pebble and slipped it into the man's pocket. She couldn’t let on that she had sense anything different about him but she wasn’t about to let him get away.

Marinette picked her dessert box off the ground hoping she hadn’t destroyed too many of the delicate macarons with that little trick before offering the man one out of politeness before crossing the street with a quick ‘stay safe’. If she found out where the man worked, most Guardians were to be self employed, she could ‘stumble’ upon it and try to gain the man's trust, at least until she found where the First Miracle Box was and could claim it, though it would be better if she could manipulate the old man into giving it to her since it would create a stronger bond right off the bat. She would stop at nothing to get the box however, even if it meant taking years to create a strong enough bond with the box and the Kwami’s inside. After all, the only reason the Guardians had not tried to contact her or bring her back to the Temple was because of their belief that unseen powers brought things to be and that one of those unseen powers was one of the reasons Marinette reunited with her parents and thus there must be a reason that she had to stay in Paris. Reclaiming the First Miracle Box and becoming Grand Guardian was her destiny and now she knew for a fact that it was in Paris, within miles of her, and she’d rather die than let it slip through her fingers then fail her destiny.

Heading over to the school, Marinette pushed thoughts of the First Miracle Box from her mind, instead focusing on being just Marinette, the daughter of two bakers. She smiled as she climbed the school steps instantly spotting Chloe standing just inside the entrance.

“I thought I’d have to make my way to our classroom before I found you,” she told the heiress. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you obvious,” Chloe said, lying to her. Marinette decided not to push it at the moment, mainly because the bell for them to head to class sounded, and she had all over lunch to interrogate her friend.

The world was apparently against her finding out what Chloe was lying to her for because after their first class during their study period, a massive crash sounded around the school. The surveillance showed one of her classmates, Ivan, transformed into a stone being. Marinette could have waved off the sudden attack as one of a pissed off Meta the way a lot of her schoolmates were doing, but with the meeting between her and the shameful Grand Guardian trainee had her thinking it was all too much of a coincidence for it not to all be Miraculous related.

Marinette made her way home and up to her room to formulate a plan on how she could be involved without bringing unwanted attention to herself but the second she stepped into her room she sensed something off. A quick glance around the room showed that someone had been up there and had left a black box on her desk. Someone who wasn’t her parents since they’d be too busy with the bakery to step out.

Slowly approaching the box, Marinette started going over all the possibilities of what the box could be when she saw a familiar symbol, one she had seen all her life.

The symbol of the Order of Guardians

A miraculous box was sitting on her desk.

Stepping forward she picked up the box and opened it, closing her eyes so as not to be blinded by the bright light that it omitted as the Kwami inside formed its physical body.

She opened her eyes and had to blink, not quite believing what she was seeing.

“Hello Marinette, you are the only one who can stop Stoneheart and save Ivan and the rest of Paris,” The Kwami, the Scarab Kwami, said looking up at her with wide eyes.

She was chosen to be the next Scarab wielder.

Well shit, she hadn’t been this put off by a surprise revelation since she’d woken from the coma to find her birth parents waiting for her. Who knew that this was how the day was going to go.

Tag List

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myhauntedsalem · 4 years

Photo

True Ghost Stories and Tales of the Supernatural

1. A Baby Crying

“When I was in high school, my uncle would throw me a couple bucks to help babysit his kids with my aunt. They lived in a two-story house by the water, nice area. The kids were about 3 and 6, respectively.

One day I was sitting in their den on my phone when I started to hear a baby crying. Thinking it was the three-year-old, I headed to the bottom of the stairs to check and see if my aunt was up there dealing with it. I called for her a couple times with no response. The baby kept crying. I called for her one more time, and when I got no response I started walking up the stairs. Then I heard my cousins and aunt playing outside.

All the hairs on my body stood up and I literally felt a chill run down my spine. I quietly turned around, walked down the stairs, got in my car, and drove away. The ‘baby’ was still crying when I closed the door behind me.

A few years later I was drunk at a family party and told my uncle the story. He told me that he and his wife used to hear the baby too, and apparently, the previous owners had a kid die of SIDS in that room upstairs. He’s uber Catholic and had a Mass said for the baby. He said after that it never happened again. Still gives me the willies when I talk about it though.” – urgehal666

2. The Man with the Suitcase

“I was 13 years old and drinking lemonade with my best friend in my kitchen. We were alone. From where we were seating we could see a corridor that leads from the front door to the backyard. We were talking and something made us shut up. We looked to the corridor and there was the shadow of a man walking by with a suitcase. I know she also saw him because we both described the same thing: a tall shadow with a suitcase

Fast forward to a few years later, I had to do a school project with another girl. Again I was alone at home, working on the computer when she arrived. She then asked me where my dad was. When I told her my dad was away, at work, she asked me, ‘Well, then who’s the man I saw walking downstairs and carrying a suitcase when I came in?’

So far, no one else from my family has seen him. I haven’t seen him again ever since, but for a while it really scared the shit out of me to be home alone.” – rraarraarraasputin

3. The Exorcism

“I work as a paramedic, got a call to a church, the retired nun who still lived at the church was having some issues. The priest was attempting an exorcism when the family got a state order to get her into a psych facility. We got her into the back of our ambulance and all was fine. Then this 92-year-old, 90-pound woman ripped out of her leather restraints and started speaking in a voice no human could produce. She then told me that her commander in the war had burned and buried her alive during the war when defending France against the Germans.

The whole presence was terrifying and gave me nightmares for years to come. I told my partner to use the lights and sirens so I could get out of there as fast as possible. During the whole transport, she was speaking in weird tongues.” – rbilly0001

4. The Morgue Door

“Used to work hospital security and we had video cameras accessible in the office.

During body escorts, we kept finding the morgue door open. That was weird because it was a heavy door that could only be opened with a keycard. Pathologists were blaming security and security was blaming pathologists for leaving it open, as we were the only two groups with access. I did a body escort one day, made sure to close the door behind me and went back to work. Not even a half hour later, the office got a call bitching that the ‘last guard left the door open.’

I swore up and down I didn’t and went to check the cameras. The cameras showed me pulling the door shut, pushing on it and then wiggling the locked handle to ensure it was closed. I wasn’t even out of frame from the camera yet before we could see the door swing ALL the way open, hit the wall and then slowly swing shut until it was slightly ajar.” – LilithImmaculate

5. The Haunted Hotel

“Not me but a friend who is a pilot. She stayed at an older hotel downtown Chicago and was studying for her recurrent class which was in a few weeks. While at the desk, deep in thought, she heard people talking and laughing. When she looked up, it got quiet. She said it sounded like it was in the room with her and went back to studying. The noise started off softly and then again sounded like a party was going on in her room. She got up and looked around and there was silence. There were no sounds coming from any rooms, no televisions on, no radios, no people in the hallway – the noise was definitely in her room.

That night around 2 am, she was in bed and felt someone brush strands of hair from her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. She jumped up and turned on the light and there was no one there. She didn’t get back to sleep and bid around that overnight so she wouldn’t be in that hotel again.” – Sandbargirl

6. Echoes of the Past

“When I was little I saw a recurring ghost. She would appear for a split second and then vanish, but I could always perfectly recreate the image.

She was a short little girl wearing a frilly blue dress and a big red bow, blonde hair, blue eyes, large ears. A couple of notable sightings were her looking through my mom’s jewelry box and one peering through our glass door at me (with her hands over here eyes binocular style)

It never really bothered me and these happened for a while. A few years later at my Grandfathers house and we were helping him unpack his attic and I found a portrait of his long since deceased sister.

Not quite the same dress, slightly different bow, but the face was absolutely her. She had died as a child quite tragically so obviously I had never met her, but I did know of her but had never seen a picture of her before.

So, not a scary supernatural encounter but rather a heartwarming one knowing the great aunt I never met was saying hello.” – Omni_Omega

7. Alone in the Chuch

“I worked for my church for two years. One day, a coworker and I were closing up the church at the end of the day. By this point, doors were locked and we had checked every room to make sure no one was in the building. The church had two lobbies, one in each side of the building. They were connected with a long hallway lined with classrooms. As my coworker and I were turning off lights and double checking the doors in the one lobby, I looked down the hall and could distinctly see a boy (late teens to early 20s) in a blue plaid short sleeve shirt and khaki pants sitting in the chair. He had his hands folded and was looking at the ground as if in deep thought.

Initially, I didn’t think anything of it as this wasn’t an uncommon sight. I turned and in the second it hit me that we were the only ones in the building. I turned again and he there was no one (from the time that I saw him to when he disappeared all happened in about a second or two). I told my coworker what I saw and we both noped out of there quick.

Being that is was our first unexplained, potentially supernatural, experience, we were both pretty freaked out but we never felt threatened nor was the presence malicious in any degree.” – AgentMarks

8. The Escaped Prisoner

“I worked in a maximum security prison for awhile. I was assigned to central control one night, which is where the camera screens were.

One of the cameras was for the classifications room. I glanced at it and there was an inmate in there. This was super odd because it was two in the morning and nobody was supposed to be in there. Everyone that had keys to that room went home at 5.

Anyways, so this inmate is just sitting in there doing nothing. I got the sergeant’s attention and told him someone was in there and gave him the spare key to the room. He went to go check it out with a couple of other people, but by the time they got there, the room was empty. They searched for like 15 minutes but there was definitely no one in there.” – Bb21297

9. Calls From the Old Morgue

“My colleague used to work in a hospital and would often receive phone calls around 3am but no one would speak at the other end of the receiver. The number was from an extension somewhere in the hospital and when they looked it up, it was from an old morgue nobody has used in a while.” – manicpixiechick

10. The Footsteps

“When I was about 12 our family moved into a new house—new to us, actually quite old. It was in our same village but down a different lane.

Part of it used to be a bungalow so my room and my sister’s room were on the ground floor, down a long hallway. All of the ground floor had walnut flooring and there was a Persian rug outside the door to my room to avoid cold toesies in the morning.

Every night, around 11 or so, I would hear footsteps walking at a fairly slow pace right down the hall, from the end guest suite up past our rooms and away down the hall to the living room.

I was always in bed when I heard them, and so was everyone else. You know how you can tell who a family member is by the way they walk up the stairs, or open a specific door? I knew it wasn’t anyone in my family. Plus, it was the sound of outdoor shoes clacking on the wood and everyone in my family wore slippers inside the house.

I would hear the footsteps start, fairly loud on the wooden floor, way down the hall, come up past my sister’s room and then there would be a pause—while whatever it was walked over the rug. You could hear the gap in the footsteps, about three seconds, then they would start again on the other side of the rug and fade out as they walked down the hall away to the living room.

Then they would come back—same footsteps, break across the rug, resumed on the other side.

I don’t remember ever feeling scared, but I never ever went out to see what it was. I would fall asleep to the sound, it would go on for a really long time. It stopped about 3 or 4 weeks after we moved in and I never heard it again. I didn’t really think about it much after it stopped, but I’ve never forgotten it and as an adult it makes me shiver to remember it.” – KE-1930

#True Ghost Stories and Tales of the Supernatural #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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pessimisticlatte · 5 years

Text

Glass Roses - Chapter 4

Marichat - Adrienette - Lukagami - Marigami (platonic but Kagami is a fanon hopeless pansexual :P) - Chlobrina (ChloexSabrina, because they’re cute and I want to)

-Eventual reveal-

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette woke in her bed, tucked under the sheets with her dark hair splayed over her pillow like ink in water. She was groggy, her eyes still crusted with sleep and her mouth dry, but she felt strangely content, like something heavy had lifted over night that she hadn’t been aware of. Sitting up, Mari’s fringe fell over the face and she felt a warm tingle on her temple as she pushed the hair behind her ear. She tried to remember how she’d gotten to bed last night but her memory stopped with an image of Chat Noir’s face looking down at her as she laid in his lap. His green eyes had widened in the darkness and his golden hair was tousled from running his clawed hands through it. She remembered him scratching her scalp gently too, she ran her fingers through her hair with a smile.

Looking around the room, Mari’s eyes scanned for Tikki. Normally, the Kwami would’ve been curled beside Marinette’s head when she woke up but she hadn’t been this morning. Walking to the still open doors of her balcony, Mari looked out and saw Tikki sitting in the middle of her daybed, fins crossed in her lap with her eyes downcast.

“Tikki?” Mari walked over to the daybed and sat down gently next to Tikki, the Kawmi’s head turned and her luminous eyes lit up. “Are you alright?’

“I’m alright, Marinette,” Tikki floated up to Mari’s face and nuzzled her cheek, her antennae smoothing back as she did so.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Marinette took Tikki in her hands and pressed a kiss to the creature’s head as Tikki spoke.

~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the summer passed quickly. Marinette kept up patrols as Ladybug, Chat joined her occasionally but she found him looking into the distance with a strange, almost pained, look on his face. She made sure to steer clear of her parent’s bakery when they patrolled, not wanting him to duck onto her balcony and realise that she wasn’t there. As Mari’s stress grew regarding Chat discovering her identity, she began calling Rena Rouge or Carapace to patrol with them.

During the days, Adrien spent more and more time with Mari, Alya and Nino. When Luka, Juleka and Rose returned, their group grew bigger. Chloe appeared from nowhere and insisted on joining them, glued to Adrien near constantly. He hadn’t snapped at Chloe’s disrespect of his personal space yet, but he was continually finding himself seconds away from tearing his arm from the blonde’s grip. Marinette, as always, gravitated toward him and he appeared to be putting more effort into speaking to her than he had previously. Mari’s feelings were still confused surrounding Chat and Adrien, both of them were two ends of a spectrum she hadn’t seen just yet, so she fluctuated between a stuttering mess and and the most confident person she’d ever been in her life without the Ladybug mask hiding her face.

The first day of school rolled around too quickly, taking Marinette and her friends by complete surprise. A new school year had dawned and beckoned in yet another few hectic months juggling every aspect of her life. There hadn’t been any akuma attacks since everyone had started coming home, the thought of why had been lingering in the back of Mari’s mind during every patrol, every hangout and every text conversation in the lead up to school. Could Hawkmoth be one of her friends parents? Was he a student at their school? Could he even be one of her friends?

Mari’s musings over who he could be had stolen many hours of sleep from her, more than Chat’s visits ever had, but she’d found herself unable to mention them to even Tikki, let alone Chat.

Backpack slung over her shoulder, Mari let out a nervous breath as she stepped onto school grounds. Even though she’d been with the students here since she had started school, a new year was always daunting and the nerves that sparked throughout her body never dimmed. Her hair was pulled into two small space buns on top of her head with small ribbons tied prettily around them, she’d loved the hairstyle when she had become Multimouse and she couldn’t think of a better way to present herself on the first day back at school.

The courtyard was full of chatter, those who hadn’t seen each other since returning home sharing stories and presents. Seeing all her classmates reconnecting washed away the nervous energy that had her bouncing on the balls of her feet. Walking a few more steps, Marinette heard her name ring out through the courtyard, the almost accentless French of Kagami Tsurugi a welcome sound to her ears.

“Kagami! You’re back!” Marinette jogged over to her friend, who was standing with Adrien, Alya, Nino and Alix. It was a strange mix, Mari had to admit, but it wasn’t one she actively tried to avoid.

Kagami stood very still for a moment, her eyes meeting Marinette’s, before the Japanese girl took a step forward and stiffly embraced Mari. With a laugh, Mari wrapped her arms around her friend and felt Kagami’s stiffness melt away, gently rocking side to side, Mari squeezed Kagami slightly before pulling away.

“I missed you, Kagami!” Marinette’s head felt so much less full now that Kagami was back in the same time zone as her, and would likely be returning to her tried and true schedule. Talking to Kagami was different to talking to Alya but Marinette would never go as far as to pick who was her favourite to talk to. Comparing conversing with Kagami to conversing with Alya would be like comparing apples to oranges; they were both fruit and both very sweet but no way the same. Where Alya was all jokes and smooth edges, the aura of familiarity between them allowing their conversations to flow like a river, Kagami was facts and well researched advice. Both were welcome and Mari loved them dearly but they were so different and, for that, Marinette was thankful.

“I missed you too, Marinette,” Kagami gave a serene, genuine smile which Marinette returned enthusiastically. “Time zones can make speaking to friends quite hard, I discovered. I was almost unable to contact Adrien and I was very frustrated to not be able to contact you, Alix or Alya.”

“She called me at 3 in the morning!” Alix’s spiky pink head poked into the conversation. The much shorter girl talking at an incredibly rapid rate. Alix and Kagami had hit it off about a month before the summer break, both girls being competitive to their very cores and equally good strategists, even if Alix had more energy in her body than she should possibly be able to contain.

“It wasn’t 3 o’clock in the morning in Tokyo,” Kagami’s smile grew wider. Being around Mari, Alya and Alix had relaxed her considerably but Kagami had a tendency to snap back into her rigid way of speaking and standing very quickly as soon as she thought of her mother. The careful joking was new but both Marinette and Adrien took it as a sign that Kagami trusted them.

“You’re the smart one, ‘Gami, you shoulda known the time differences,” Alix began skating around the group, weaving through everyone with practiced ease.

“I did know the time differences. Maybe I called you because I knew it would wake you up,” Kagami’s smile turned almost cat-like, a feline interest sparking in her eyes as she watched Alix literally skate circles around them.

“Oi! I’m meant to be the rude one!”

“I’m very sorry, your majesty, allow me to make up for my dreadful comment,” Kagami swept a joking bow. “Please forgive me, Queen Alix! Oh, please, please, please!”

Alix skidded to a halt in front of Kagami and poked her tongue out at her.

“I have something for you, Kagami,” Marinette reached into her school bag and pulled out a small package wrapped in white tissue paper with a careful bow loosely tied around it. Kagami’s green-brown eyes lit up, catching the sunlight and shining like glistening honey, Mari handed her the present and watched her friend slowly unwrap it, careful not to tear the delicate paper or drop the yellow ribbon now completely free from it’s bow. “I made it myself.”

Kagami unfolded the kimono jacket inside and held it up, Mari’s handiwork glittering and fluttering like real birds in flight. The whole group, including Alix who usually paid very little attention to things such as this when it wasn’t her receiving the gift, watched as Kagami’s jaw fell open and tears of liquid silver shone in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette,” A blink sent a silver limned tear over Kagami’s lower lid and down her pale golden cheeks. Kagami unbuttoned the white blazer she was wearing, a new iteration of the regular outfit she wore to school, and folded it perfectly, placing it on the bench next to Alya and Nino. She slipped her arms into the wide, flowy sleeves and let the beautifully, deftly painted coat fall to her mid-thigh. Unlike the common reds, whites, oranges and golds Mari had seen in lots of traditional Japanese clothing, the kimono jacket was a medium blue with stunning snow-capped mountains and beautiful coursing waterfalls, birds flew across the fabric, their wings moving gently as the garment did. The swirling water of the waterfalls appeared to cascade across the rocks Marinette had painstakingly painted with the smallest brush she’d ever used in her life. “I shall treasure it forever.”

Kagami even went as far as unfastening the red and black checkered tie tucked underneath the collar of her shirt and removing it, she appeared so much more relaxed in her tights and skirt with her slightly scuffed red sneakers all topped off with the kimono jacket that made Kagami feel like the Empress of Japan herself.

“You made that, Mari?” Adrien’s eyes were like saucers. The blinding green of his eyes almost fully eclipsed by his blown-wide pupils.

“Y-yes,” A blush started to paint Marinette’s cheeks, brightening her freckles. “I made it all myself.”

“It’s incredible!” Alya stepped forward to run her fingers along the silver stitched lining on the sleeves of Kagami’s coat. “Why don’t you ever make something like this for me?”

“I’m working on something for you currently, Alya!” Marinette giggled, covering her mouth with her hands. Suddenly, a yellow blur came hurtling out of nowhere and launched at Adrien. With a squeal, Chloe effectively tackled Adrien to the ground and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug. Adrien hadn’t been paying attention, the brightness of Mari’s smile and the melody of her laugh had sent his mind into an unending error message. Even with Chloe constricting his breathe, Adrien was still breathing easier than he was when Marinette had walked over to the group a few moments ago.

“Aaaaaaaaadrikiiiins,” The piercing shrillness of Chloe’s voice did little of snap Adrien out of his Mari induced daze. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Chloe recently and he guessed that he could pay attention to her later if it was really necessary. With some help from Alix, Alya peeled Chloe off Adrien and let Marinette pull him back to his feet. “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

“Uh, hey, Chloe,” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his hand burning from Marinette grabbing it, a searing and pleasurable numbness surging up his arm and sending his heart into overdrive.

“I’m messing with you,” Chloe threw her head back into a laugh. Marinette frowned slightly, confused. “Come on, guys! Can’t someone change for a new school year?”

“I-I guess so,” Marinette’s lips pursed, her forehead wrinkling beneath her soft fringe. “As long as it lasts, Chloe. You’ve been quite awful to us in the past and the only times you’ve apologised for it have been after Adrien makes you.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see if it lasts, Marinette,” Chloe threw Marinette a quick, but not insincere, smile and walked back over to Sabrina who was shaking a snowglobe and watching the fake snow inside it settle around the figurine.

“She’s never called me Marinette before,” Mari’s confused frown deepened, dimpling her still blush painted cheeks. “Not even when she hung out with us in the holidays.”

“She didn’t hang out with us that often, Mari, we didn’t ever really invite her,” Alya grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing Nino’s hand. “I’m not generally one to encourage giving Chloe a chance but, as she said, it is a new school year. Maybe she’d actually turned over a new leaf.”

With a shrug, Kagami gave a single, solid nod. “It would be best not to underestimate her, especially this early. Let us see if she can sustain a positive behaviour toward us before we discard her,” Adrien gave a hum of approval with Kagami’s comment. Alix looked skeptical but the wary look on her face dropped quickly after realising that Kagami, ever the strategist, wouldn’t say something like this if she didn’t believe it. Nino looked at Alya who inclined her head toward him, Nino nodded his agreement. “Sometimes, people have the ability to change. We must not become a dam in the flowing stream of Chloe’s growth or we may never see the person she could become.”

Alya and Nino, still holding hands, looked at each other before excusing themselves and walking up the stairs toward their classroom. Alix checked her watch and reported that there were 10 minutes left before class started before zooming off to pick up her bag from across the courtyard.

“I have something for you too, Marinette, but I did not make it,” Kagami kneeled beside the bench she’d put her blazer on and pulled her school bag and a large, black box. “Adrien assured me that you would like it.”

Glancing at Adrien with another luminescent blush painting her cheeks, nose and chin, Mari took the box and opened it. Beneath a layer of tissue paper thinner than the one she’d wrapped Kagami’s coat in was a dress of the deepest red. Marinette recognised the garment as a cheongsam, the slightly stiff, high collar with pure golden lining giving away the styling of the traditional dress.

“A cheongsam,” Mari’s voice was barely more than a whisper. The fabric was pure silk and she was almost completely sure that the golden thread had actual gold twined into it. It was the most beautiful garment Marinette had ever touched in her entire life and she couldn’t believe that Kagami had given it to her. Mari didn’t take the the dress fully out of the box, not wanting to dirty it, but she knew that the rest of it was just as opulent and beautiful as the collar and upper part of the dress. “I didn’t think cheongsam were worn in Japan, they’re a traditional Chinese garment.”

“My cousin, not the one who was getting married but she is engaged, had brought it with her to Japan. She wanted to give it to me but it is not something I would generally wear, I prefer more comfortable clothing, so I thought that you might like it,” A blush of her own started to rise up Kagami’s neck, her normally stoic demeanor faltering. “You’re a similar size to me so I had no doubt that it would fit you, if it does not I am sure that you would be able to accurately adjust it.”

“T….thank you so much, Kagami,” Mari placed the lid back on the box, put the box in Alya and Nino’s now vacant spot, and surged forward to hug Kagami. With no hesitation, Kagami wrapped her arms around Marinette and pressed her cheek into Mari’s shoulder. “It’s so beautiful. Did your cousin have it made in China?”

“She had it made in Singapore, that’s where she and her fiance live. He has Chinese heritage and they visit his family in China occasionally, he’s very well connected so they attend quite a few functions when they go over there. Their engagement was arranged but they learned to love each other and I’ll be attending their wedding next year,” Kagami and Marinette pulled away from each other, Adrien was standing off to the side behind them, forgotten. He didn’t feel forgotten though, he’d witnessed one of the most beautiful exchanges he’d ever seen in his life. Kagami was his closest friend, after Nino of course, and Marinette was the girl he loved; seeing them as close as they were made him happier than he thought he’d ever been in his life. Adrien didn’t have siblings and his cousin, Felix, didn’t visit often anymore, so Kagami and Nino were as close to siblings as he had. Kagami was also an only child, so Adrien felt closer and more in sync with her than he did with Nino but they were both his family considering that he didn’t have much of one at home.

The school bell tolled out across the courtyard, summoning the students to class. Kagami wasn’t going to be in Adrien and Marinette’s class as her mother had requested a specific curriculum for her that was to be taught in the Tsurugi’s native Japanese with a mixture of French, German, Italian, English, Spanish, Latin, and Mandarin. Mari had thought it sad at first that Kagami would be at school with them but unable to be in their class, she’d later learned that Luka had qualified for the same class. The discovery had surprised her immensely, Marinette hadn’t thought of Luka as an incredibly intelligent, multilingual student and she had felt very guilty in never expecting him to be anything more than a handsome guitarist. This special curriculum and class enforced by Kagami’s mother wasn’t limited to just Luka and Kagami but a few other students, both older and younger than Mari, with incredible intelligence and multilingual families.

With a small wave, Kagami walked to the other end of the courtyard and began to ascend the winding stairs, leaving Marinette and Adrien alone.

“We’d best get going or Madame Bustier is going to have our heads,” Adrien’s lips had fallen into a lopsided, dimpled grin that sent a pang of recognition through Mari’s body. She’d seen that smile before but her mind, still racing from the incredible gift Kagami had presented her and the proximity to Adrien, couldn’t remember where to process the sudden, confusing recognition.

“Yeah,” Mari picked her bag up by one of the handles and slung it onto her back, careful not to disturb the small purse crossing her torso that housed Tikki and some macaroons for the Kwami in case she got hungry. They walked to the stairs together in an almost stifling silence, Marinette couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so awkward around Adrien, especially considering the amount of time they’d spent in each others presence during the summer break. At a loss for how to conduct herself, Mari decided to infuse some of the signature Chat Noir confidence that she loved into her demeanor. The thought of the cocky, halo haired boy sent heat up Mari’s neck, he’d put her to bed a couple of weeks ago. She’d fallen asleep in his lap, of all places, and he’d put her to bed! Tikki hadn’t mentioned seeing him and Chat hadn’t asked why she had the Ladybug Kwami at all during their late night talks on her balcony or the patrols she ran with him as Ladybug; she assured herself that this meant Chat and Tikki hadn’t seen each other. Neither of them would have any reason to lie to her, right? Or hide things?

“Ladies first,” Adrien swept his arm wide as they reached the stairs up to their classroom. With a small chuckle, Marinette swept him a joking curtsey and walked up the stairs in front of him. Her mind was still overwhelmed with thoughts of that night with Chat, she’d been mulling over it for weeks and the longer she focused on it, the more questions it raised. Had she drooled on him? Alya said that she drooled in her sleep, if she’d drooled on Chat that would’ve been so embarrassing and Chat would’ve been too polite to tell her afterwards unless she asked. Why didn’t she ask?! Mari’s brow creased as she watched her booted feet ascend the steps, little did she know, that right behind her, Adrien was enjoying the view.

~~~~~TAGLINE~~~~~

@lady-charinette

@katieykat513

@nifflerstorm

DM to be tagged :P

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captainmeowvelwrites · 4 years

Text

You Times Two (Ch.5)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 5626 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… Our boy flirted up a storm with Marinette “Just A Friend” Dupain-Cheng—and whataya know, our girl’s got game and dished the flirt right back. Some pretty sweet puns flew all over the show. And much to our dismay, yet not at all to our surprise, Adrien sought advice on how to handle Kagami “Thinks I’m Her Boyfriend” Tsurugi. (He really needs to stop doing that.) Will Sunshine Boy make use of her counsel? And will Maribug avoid her kitty’s cake offering tonight? Let’s find out, boys and girls!

---

Chapter Five

Adrien rummaged through his duffle bag, the scent of sweat, leather and cheese affronting his nose. "Geez," he choked, retreating from his locker to suck in a breath, "I really need to clean this thing."

Inside the bag, Plagg lounged in an empty container, rubbing his full belly. "I happen to like the way it smells."

Pinching his nose, Adrien plucked a glove from the bag with his free hand. "Hmm. I wonder why." He sent Plagg a side glance. "Maybe because it's infested with crumbs of your stinky cheese."

Plagg burped. "I give you superpowers. You give me camembert. That's the deal, kid."

Adrien rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, yeah." He sniffed the glove, breathed a sigh of relief, and slipped it on. "You could at least practice clean eating." He plonked on his helmet, though didn't yet cover his face, and puffed a stray strand of blond from his eyes. "Do me a favour and don't eat my socks while I'm gone. Or Kagami's cake."

At least he didn't have to worry about Ladybug's piece. He'd stowed it away in Plagg's cheese fridge when he'd raced (or rather, when his bodyguard had raced him) by the mansion to fetch his fencing gear.

A sigh slipped from his lips, his stomach looping in knots, as the events of last night flooded his mind like a river after a sudden storm. He wondered – not for the first time – how he could've upset Ladybug.

Hopefully, she really was just a fan.

A very surprised fan.

And all going to plan, he'd make everything right at patrol tonight.

But what if he didn't?

Maybe Ladybug hated Adrien Agreste.

Maybe that's why she'd reacted to his identity so frantically, scrambling for the nearest exit.

Maybe their partnership was over.

What if she didn't even show up this evening?

The groan of metal hinges tore through the room as Adrien shoved his locker shut, hoping to trap his crazy thoughts within its four steel walls.

"You seem distracted."

He shot to full height, his eyes darting left to find a geared-up Kagami, her red-hilted sabre in hand. She stepped forward, watching him intently, and placed her free hand to his cheek.

Her smile was as warm as her touch, yet the knots in his stomach refused to subside.

"Is everything all right, Adrien?"

He guided her hand from his cheek, managing a smile. "Sorry, Kagami. I just… have a lot on my mind right now."

She tilted her head, her dark hair following suit. "We can talk about it if you'd like?"

Adrien wished it was that simple—wished he could reveal his identity, his dilemma, his troubles, everything—but if there was one thing his circumstances weren't, it was simple. Would Kagami even understand?

Adrien flashed another smile, before retrieving his sabre from a nearby bench. "Thanks, Kagami, but I'm fine. Honestly." His eyes remained on his sabre, as he flexed the hilt between his gloved hands. "I just have a few things to figure out, that's all."

"I could help if you want?" Her voice was eager, assertive, and his smile came more easily.

"Don't worry, Kagami," he said, raising his hand. "There's really no need." Or rather, no way.

Her eyes flickered to the ground, an unfamiliar expression sliding onto her face. "If you're upset, isn't it my duty as your girlfriend to cheer you up?"

He stiffened at the title, reminded of Marinette's advice less than thirty minutes back. His lips parted, but only a dry croak escaped them.

When he said nothing—or rather, nothing intelligible—Kagami took it upon herself to continue. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Adrien nearly dropped his sabre. "No, of course not," he burst with conviction, guilt biting at his brain. "I mean, uhh…" Again, that advice flitted through his mind, and this time, he seized the chance to make use of it. "Hey, are you free tomorrow? After Alya's, I mean."

For a moment, those enthralling brown eyes seemed to scrutinise him. "Well," she finally said, "I can tell Mother our one-on-one fencing session is running later than expected." The makings of a smirk played on her lips. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking"—he moved to rub his neck, only to realise his gloves and helmet made that tricky—"maybe we could, uhh, go out for dinner?"

Kagami's smirk softened into a smile. "Did you have anywhere in mind?"

Only as his shoulders slackened did he realise they'd been tense to begin with. "It's"—his thoughts drifted back to that candlelit rooftop—"a surprise."

When her lips drew into a firm line, and she stole a glance at her shoes, Adrien worried she perhaps wasn't a fan of surprises. He bit his lower lip, readying himself for the bite of rejection.

It didn't come.

"Very well," Kagami said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I should let you know, I'm especially fond of seafood, Mediterranean, and a greasy slice of pizza"—she revealed a wry smile—"despite Mother's protests." Her hand slid from his shoulder, back to her side. "Also, I'm allergic to peanuts, but only mildly."

Adrien gaped, unprepared for that answer. It was stupid, really. She was… well, kind of his girlfriend. And even when she hadn’t been, she'd said yes to their trip to the ice rink.

A smile snuck across his lips. "Um – All right." He made a mental note of her preferences, already envisioning the night in his mind's eye—the scent of steadily burning candle wax, a sea of vibrant red roses, the freshness of tzatziki and succulent, spiced chicken. "So no peanuts and – uhh – it's a date, then?"

Her smile stretched in sync with her nod. "It's a date, Adrien."

His face brightened. "Then I'll see you at Alya's. We can head to dinner straight from there." Remembrance sparked in his green eyes. "And speaking of surprises, I have a small one in my locker for you." He winked. "I'll give you it after practice."

Kagami reached for his hand, threading his fingers with hers – at least, as much as their gloves allowed it. "I look forward to it."

At that, Adrien lightly squeezed her hand, unsure of which surprise she was referring to.

He didn't mind either way.

---

Marinette stared down her half-eaten cheesecake, a fork hanging from her mouth, as Clara Nightingale's "Big Bang" blasted through her computer speakers. From the corner of her eye, Tikki shimmied along to the upbeat choreography, and her lips quirked up at the sight.

She plucked the fork from her mouth and tapped it against her desk, a sigh sliding through her lips. Had Adrien given her this cake a week ago, she'd probably be giving a beetroot a run for its money.

Now?

Not so much.

Marinette knew she was being stupid. Sure, Kagami was getting a slice, but hers didn't need to taste so bitter because of it.

Guilt clawed at her chest.

Surely it was natural to feel some level of bitterness towards Kagami. She had captured the heart of the boy she'd been fawning over for more than a year. And on top of that, it turned out said boy was also her akuma-fighting partner.

Somehow, that fact only made the sting of jealousy all the more potent.

Marinette knew she had no one to blame but herself.

And she certainly had no right to be mad.

She'd had countless opportunities to tell Adrien how she felt.

But she'd always hesitated.

Kagami didn't.

And now he was hers.

Marinette sagged in her chair as memories of Weredad gnawed at her brain, a reminder that Adrien – in the guise of Chat Noir – had rejected her as Marinette.

For Ladybug, yes.

Regardless, that fact still stung like a sabre straight to the chest, even if it at least answered a question that had hounded her brain since the day she'd started crushing on Adrien: did he feel the same way?

When she wasn't Ladybug, the answer was clearly a resounding no; however, if the bits and pieces she did know from Chat Blanc were true, Adrien would accept her whole self in a heartbeat.

At first, she wasn't sure of how to feel about that… but as her mind continued to wander, she recalled the countless times she'd rejected Chat Noir, and the bite of rejection dulled. She cared deeply for Chat. He was one of her closest friends, someone she entrusted her life to every day—but all this time, she'd clung to the hope of one day pouring her heart out to Adrien. She'd been so blinded by her love for him that she'd never even considered her kitty beyond a few brief imaginings, all of which she'd dismissed the second she thought of Adrien.

Chat Noir was her partner and apparently, anything more between them – between her and Adrien – couldn't just complicate things; it could literally bring about the end of the world.

Her thoughts wandered to Luka, of the beautiful song he'd written her, of how he wore his heart on his sleeve, of how simple everything seemed when he was around.

Maybe, despite Chat Noir's unveiling, it wasn't so selfish to pursue Luka.

The knowledge of Chat's identity brought with it a sense of clarity, she realised. He'd given up on Ladybug – on her – in favour of Kagami. And as wounding as it was, she respected that decision.

After all, he deserved to be happy. She wanted him to be happy.

And she deserved happiness too.

With a resigned sigh, Marinette glanced at the bottom right corner of her computer screen.

8:14pm.

Just like that, she ceaselessly tapped her toes against the foot of her office chair. Only sixteen minutes until her patrol with Chat Noir—with Adrien.

Marinette set down her fork and offered the rest of her cake to Tikki.

She'd lost her appetite.

She staggered to her feet and started to pace, Tikki's quiet chews distant to her ears. "Just remember, Marinette," she muttered to herself, a hand pressed to her chin, "if the cake is for you, then oh darn, you're lactose intolerant. Unlike Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She shook her head. "Just don't say the last part out loud." Her hand dropped from her chin to toy with the hem of her black cardigan. "And if he asks if you're a fan, why yes, you are. But not a huge fan. Just a regular fan. Of his work. Not his face. So he doesn't get the wrong idea." She drummed her fingers against her temples, as though that'd drill these tidbits into her brain. "If you start to freak out, fall back on puns. If it worked this afternoon, it'll work this evening." She'd completed a full loop around her room. "And if he asks if you're on Instagram, the answer is definitely not. No—what's Instagram? Yes. Perfect!"

Tikki gave her a look from atop the now-empty plate. "Why would he ask that?"

Marinette sunk into her desk chair. "Well, if he thinks Ladybug's a fan of his, he might sift through his followers hoping to find her." She slapped her hands to her cheeks, picturing that very scenario. "Then he'd find me – the girl he already suspects – and realise that I am Ladybug. It'd be a total disaster!"

Tikki pursed her lips, as though fighting back a giggle. "You're his friend, Marinette. Of course, you follow him on social media." She paused to tap her lips, a few crumbs of cake spritzed around her mouth. "Besides, he already knows you're a fan of his." Seeing her chosen's face twist with horror, she quickly added, "As Marinette, I mean! And anyway, he has heaps of fans."

Marinette croaked out a groan, her head colliding with the desk.

Tikki settled near her face and placed a reassuring hand to her cheek. "Remember, Marinette, he's the same Chat Noir he was before. Not to mention you were making cake puns together only hours ago. Just don't think too hard and you'll be fine!"

"Y'know what?" Marinette leaped to her feet, sending her chair spinning. "You're right. I can do this!" Her eyes shone as she slammed her hands against the desk. "It's time to patrol Paris with Adrien Agreste! So, Tikki, spots on!"

---

The final fragments of day clung to the darkening sky, where bits of blue and pink and lilac slipped away with the setting sun.

After one graceful flip saw her perched near the edge of a slated rooftop, Ladybug glimpsed the time on her yoyo and stopped to admire the view. Up ahead, the Eiffel Tower set the evening ablaze with its fierce, yellow glow. And below, Friday night traffic meandered through the streets, the steady hum of car motors coating the air like white noise.

It was soothing, humbling, and yet somehow empowering… to stand on that quiet rooftop, but a tiny piece of a puzzle that formed such a striking city.

"Taking the scenic route, huh?"

Ladybug recognised that voice in a heartbeat. Thanks to the power of hindsight, she even considered smacking her head against the nearest chimney.

They sounded so alike.

"Quiet as a cat, I see." She didn't know when a smile had slid across her lips, but welcomed it all the same.

Chat Noir emerged at her side, silent as the evening breeze. "I'm nothing if not consistent." The smile he gave her was small, light, even timid, and all she saw was Adrien.

That thought seemed to hail an ocean of nerves and within seconds, her chest ached from the rising weight of it all. She pried her eyes from his, remembering the pep-talk she'd given herself only ten minutes prior.

Puns.

When in doubt, turn to puns.

Yes, she could do that.

"Consistent?" She spared a glance his way. "I think you mean purrsistent."

Chat arched a brow. "Who are you and what have you done with my partner?" The delighted lilt of his voice didn't go unnoticed, nor the way he leaned closer. Was he even aware he was doing it?

Oh, she certainly was.

Adrien Agreste, the boy she'd been crushing on for over a year, was being receptive to her jokes—to her.

And always had been.

That realisation brought with it a rush she was not prepared for.

"Your clawful sense of humour must be rubbing off on me." She snuck him a smirk, fighting the urge to jingle that silly bell of his.

"Clawful?" Chat threw his nose in the air, his pout as apparent as his sass. "I think you mean clawver!"

"Pawdon my ofurrsight." She giggled into her latex-covered hand.

"Well, colour me impurressed." He slipped her a curious glance. "Where'd this come from?"

She shrugged. "I guess I'm just feeling punny tonight."

"Well," Chat said, nodding with approval, "I'm furry much okay with that." His smile was steady, unwavering, as he turned to the Eiffel Tower, clearly content with admiring the view.

And what a view it was.

The way that fiery yellow glow illuminated every handsome inch of his face. How shadows splashed wherever that glow allowed them, highlighting the serene smile that lined his full lips, as it often did during quiet moments such as this. And least of all, those strikingly green eyes, as vibrant out of the mask as they were within it.

She turned away, drawing a hand to her chest.

"Ladybug?" Concern was clear in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

When she looked his way once more, the squareness of his shoulders weren't lost on her—like he was bracing for impact. Was he afraid of her answer?

No, that would imply he already knew it.

And he definitely – hopefully – didn't know the dangerous turn her thoughts had just taken.

She pursed her lips. No, this must be fear over her reaction last night. A reaction that, to her concern, had alarmed him so much he'd quite possibly bought her cake.

She had to remedy that.

"Adrien…"

When Chat's brows shot up, Ladybug was starkly reminded that he wore a mask for a reason. She slapped one hand to her lips, muffling a gasp, as her other frantically rocked through the air. "Sorry! Sorry! I am so sorry! I meant Chat!" She pulled her hands across her face, peeking up at him from through her gloved fingers. "I know I shouldn't say your name when you're— I – I mean, it's just… habit, I guess?" She bolted straight up, her hands slapping against her thighs. "I mean, not habit," she squealed. "That would imply I'm used to using your name, which I most definitely am not—"

"Hey," Chat cut her off, raising a paw. "No sweat, LB." He smiled, despite the way his brows furrowed beneath his mask. "Hearing my name while suited up… I just didn't expect it, that's all. It's not a big deal, honestly."

Those words gave her pause. "No sweat, Clumsy Girl," she could still hear him say, beaming her way and clutching his baton. "I'm learning the ropes too."

A small smile painted her lips. He'd always been so laidback, so supportive, so slow to judge.

So Adrien.

"Ladybug…" Chat eyed her closely, his lips twisted to one side. "Is something on your mind?"

She stared into his eyes—green, green, green—like rolling fields or mines of sparkling tourmaline. "Furgive me, Kitty? It's been a… long day."

Hold up.

Hadn't reassuring him been the plan?

Not the other way around.

His hand was on her shoulder, a wry smile lining his lips. "Hey, it's hard not to let it slide when you're making such meowvelous puns." He winked, then extended a hand toward the iron behemoth ahead of them, glowing brighter as night descended. "Shall we?"

She had to smile at that. With a nod, she spun the yoyo still clutched in her hand, and he followed suit, withdrawing his staff.

"Ladybugs first," Chat said, offering a princely bow as he flourished a hand toward the tower.

Come to think of it, Adrien had bowed like that on at least one occasion, when Great Uncle Cheng had come to stay. Did he make a habit of doing so both in and out of the mask?

Returning to the present, she hurled her yoyo at a far-off lamppost. "Don't mind if I do." And with one tug, she was off.

The whir of his staff, and the clank of metal against the pavement below, was enough to know he was close behind.

After a few swings on her end and a few vaults on his, they descended upon the esplanade of the Eiffel Tower, landing side-by-side, and attracting gapes and whispers from throngs of passing pedestrians.

"Wanna catch a ride?" said Chat, extending a gloved hand.

She clutched her yoyo close. "This ladybug stands on her own two feet, thank you very much."

He leaned in, quirking a brow. "Don't ladybugs have six feet?"

Ladybug gave an eye roll. "Of course, you'd know," she said, planting a hand over his face to shove him out of her bubble.

He poised his paws atop his extended staff. "I suppose I am an expert on all things Ladybug."

She shook her head, her smile as wry as his. "Race ya to the top?"

"I could"—he snuck her a side glance—"but we both know I'm faster."

Another eye roll. "Then winning should be kitten's play." Giving him no chance to answer, she flung her yoyo at a distant beam and launched off the pavement.

Wind whistled in her ears as she leaped, flipped and swung from one iron beam to the next, with such fluidity one would think she was running on auto-pilot.

Until a blur of black shot by, and Ladybug almost landed on her face instead of her feet.

Apparently, Chat Noir's stick could span the height of the Eiffel Tower if he so wished, given he was riding the dang thing all the way to the highest platform. He was soon leaning over the railing far above, offering a wave and a toothy grin.

Was it humanly possible to roll her eyes right out of her head?

That question hung near the fringes of her mind as she scaled the rest of the tower and, half a minute later, flew over the railing and onto the summit. "You sly cat," she called, huffing a wayward strand of dark hair from her face. "Your fancy stick did all the—"

Expecting Chat Noir, she froze at the stunning green gaze of Adrien Agreste. He sat on the ground, cross-legged and beaming up at her, between two familiar cartons and a dancing candle flame.

Her thoughts lurched back to that painfully romantic rooftop dinner, and she almost descended into an all-out wheezing fit right that second.

Yes, she knew his identity.

That very fact was never far from her thoughts.

But even so, this stark, sudden reminder was something she'd in no way been ready for.

"You took your time." His cheeky smirk seemed so out of place without the mask. "I even stopped by the groomers for a makeover," he said, flicking his perfect hair like something straight out of a L'Oreal commercial.

Frustratingly, all that occupied her mind in that moment was how that smirk didn't suit him.

Or perhaps, how the sight of it was so foreign to her.

And how she wished that wasn't so.

After a few failed attempts, Ladybug latched her yoyo around her waist, and gave the set-up a second glance. Adrien had set his schoolbag on the ground just behind him—he must've transformed while wearing it—and she didn't miss the loud chewing that came from within it.

"Sorry about Plagg." He rubbed his neck, smirk fading into a sheepish smile. "If there's one thing he's passionate about, it's Camembert."

"So I've heard," she somehow managed. Her hands threaded behind her, and her steps were unsteady as she approached. "So, um – what's all this?"

"Just a little treat from the best bakery in town." He waved a hand toward the empty spot across from him, and she wasn't sure if she'd sunk into that spot of her own accord, or if her legs had turned to jelly once she'd reached it.

Crossing her legs, she squeaked, "What bakery would that be?"

"The Dupain-Chengs." He tipped his head, his blond bangs swaying at the movement. "You've never been?"

Ladybug tensed. "Oh – Uhh – The one by that high school?" She gripped her knees a little too tightly. "Yeahhh, that's a bit outta the way for me. As – err – my civilian self, that is. 'Cause, y'know… we're clearly near there quite often as, uhh, ourselves." She cleared her throat, her lips sliding off to one side. "I mean, I do know the Dupain-Chengs own a bakery. My, uhh… mum's… uncle's… cousin's… step-son's… fiancée… She's, umm… a friend of theirs. That's how I knew about Marinette. I've very briefly met her and I, uhh… thought she'd make a good Multimouse." She could've facepalmed—would've, if he wasn't watching. "I mean, when I choose superheroes, I try to choose people I think will make good ones, but at the same time, I try not to choose someone I'm close to, y'know?" A strangled laugh left her lips. "'Cause that could – err – risk my identity and, well, we certainly don't want that."

Smooth, Ladybug.

Real smooth.

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to form words—because he probably had a bunch of questions after that little spiel, and answering any of them could very well dig her into a deeper hole. "So! What's the occasion?" She drummed her fingers against her knees, shooting glances between him and the cartons.

Adrien's shoulders went square, as Chat's had only minutes earlier, and in his lap, his thumbs ran races around each other. "Uhh… So… Well…" A hint of pink crept across his ears, steadily making its descent down to his cheeks. "You seemed a little upset last night and I…" He grabbed the top carton from the stack of two. "I guess I was worried that—"

"I – Yeah – Sorry about that." She chewed at her lower lip, only vaguely recalling her self-given pep-talk. Gosh, what perfect timing! "I – um – kinda freaked out a little last night."

The dubious look he gave her said it all.

Ladybug shrunk into her shoulders. "Okay, a lot." She barely resisted the urge to toy with her yoyo—because boy, had that turned out swell last night. "You see, Adrien… I, uhh – I'm kind of a fan of yours."

Seeing his eyes widen was enough to make her fly to her feet and pace. "Not, like, a crazy fangirl or anything. Like, I wouldn't go putting pictures of you all over my room"—she flicked her hands to one side, as if gesturing to some invisible wall—"because, well, that would be crazy."

She stilled, heat rising to her cheeks.

No no no no!

Why did she even say that?

Now he was going to think she – Marinette – was a crazy fangirl.

Yes, she kind of was.

But he didn't need to know that!

Ladybug turned away, hiding her reddening face. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with someone having photos of you all over their room. I mean, people do that for a whole bunch of reasons. In fact, putting photos of a celebrity – especially a model – all over your wall is just, uhh… commendable? Or, erm… dedication… to the arts? Yeah, it's that."

Upon re-facing him, she realised he'd jumped to his feet. His lips were slightly agape; his brows slowly furling.

Oh great. She was just confusing him!

"But," Ladybug squeaked, "that way of fangirling—or, err… expressing an art form—just isn't for me. 'Cause like I said, I'm just arugula—I mean, a regular fan. Of your work. Not your face." She gasped. "Not – Not that there's anything wrong with your face. Your face is perfect"—the grin she showed flipped in on itself—"ly fine. Yeah, it's perfectly fine. I – uh – just didn't know how to handle the fact my kitty is, well… you." She considered throwing herself over the nearby railing. "Sorry! That came out wrong! I – I didn't mean—"

Two arms drew her close and suddenly, she found herself gawking at the lean muscles of his neck, as he eased a hand around her waist, his other settling between her shoulder blades.

Heat swarmed across her skin. His cologne was almost palpable, sweet and spicy at once, greeting her nose and making it sing. The warmth of his touch seemed to melt through her suit, soothing her frantic thoughts and replacing them with only him.

She lost all sense of time.

Had seconds ticked by?

Maybe minutes?

If there was one thing she was aware of, it was the steadily heightening thud thud thud that emanated from his chest, as though his heart was pounding and pounding and pounding on his ribcage, throwing punch after punch, trying to burst free.

The sound verged on deafening by the time his hands found her shoulders, and he ended the embrace as though doing so was a chore. The second he’d pulled back, the crisp evening air had swarmed across her suit, yet the hands that remained on her shoulders somehow kept any shivers at bay.

"Absolutely nothing has changed, Ladybug," he said, locking his eyes with hers. "I'm still the same silly kitty I've always been. And we're still the same unstoppable team we've always been"—his bangs fell across his eyes as he stared at his shoes—"aren't we?"

He suddenly seemed unsure.

It made her insides coil. She'd already explained her reaction last night. That it was all on her. Why would he think they were no longer a team?

Ladybug eased his hands off her shoulders and to his sides, and didn't let go. "Of course, we are." She revealed a small smile, but it wavered when she was met by only silence. "What's wrong, Adrien?" Her brows creased beneath her mask, and she gave his hands a light squeeze. "You can tell me, you know."

His shoulders rose and fell, unsteady as his breaths. "I'm just—" His voice cracked, and his grip on her hands tightened. "I was worried," he whispered, "that maybe you hate me."

For a second, Ladybug was speechless, as though someone had tossed a tub of cold water straight over her. "Hate you?" she wheezed, and shook her head so fast she might've had whiplash if not for her powers. "Adrien, I could never hate you!"

Adrien's eyes shot up, hope flickering within them. "You mean it? You're not, well"—he looked away, avoiding her stare as though afraid of what it might tell—"disappointed it was me?"

"What?" That single word slid from her lips, soft and breathless. "No, not at all! Why would you even think that?"

Did he really think so little of himself?

Adrien Agreste, famous fashion model.

Chat Noir, treasured superhero of Paris.

Her perfectly imperfect partner.

"I'm sorry." His voice, like his gaze, was soft with uncertainty. "I just… misread the way you acted last night." He looked away and pursed his lips, as though wrestling over his words. "I thought… maybe you were… mad at me? Or maybe…" He laughed, but the sound was tear-jerkingly hollow. "Well, let's just say Adrien Agreste isn't half as cool as Chat Noir."

Her mouth hung open, a fog of disbelief falling over her eyes. "Isn't… half as…?" That fog soon scattered, and quiet determination dawned in its place. "Adrien, that's not true at all. I'm so sorry I made you think that!"

Adrien flashed a smile. It was small, strained, as if hastily woven by a thread that had long since been stretched too thin.

It was his brave face, she realised.

An aching lump lodged itself in her throat. "Listen here, Kitty." She slid her hands from his and in an instant, her grip on his shoulders was as firm as her stare, demanding his full attention. "Tikki once told me when I needed to hear it that with or without the suit, I am Ladybug. And the same goes for you, Adrien. You are Chat Noir, suit or no suit." Her voice was brimming with quiet affection as she continued, "You're kind… brave… determined… and you care so much about others. You're one of my dearest friends and every day, I happily trust you with my life. I can always rely on you—and not just when we're battling supervillains." She slid one hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek, and heard a soft breath suck in through his lips. "I was so upset last week for leading Hawk Moth to Master Fu. If you hadn't been there to calm me down…"

Horrifying images sliced through her mind. Of her friends, their eyes yellow and empty, their identities exposed to that despicable Hawk Moth. Of that monstrous sentimonster, its stinger shattering through Master Fu's shield like it was made of glass.

All that suffering.

All because she'd failed.

But once more, her kitty was there, placing a hand atop the one that cupped his cheek… the one that now shook against his skin.

As always, he soothed her with his touch, with his warmth, with his presence. He stared into her eyes, and she into his, and those awful images vanished.

"You're amazing, Adrien," she whispered. "You're enough and more. So much more." Her other hand slid from his shoulder to cup his free cheek. "And your Miraculous does not define you. You define it."

Adrien stared at her, his body still and his eyes wide, as though her words hadn't quite sunk in yet.

But she knew the second they did.

She knew by the way he stood taller, lighter, like a wilted flower does after rain.

She knew by the unshed tears that had his eyes shimmering like precious emeralds.

She knew when he stepped but a breath away, and she felt the soft heat of his lips on her cheek, fuelling a fierce blush that no doubt matched her mask.

He held her hands in his, and his smile alone said a million thanks.

That didn't stop him from giving two more.

"Thank you, M'Lady." Somehow, his smile was both shaky and decisive at once. "Just, thank you."

And for the first time, Ladybug saw him.

Truly, deeply, clearly saw him.

Like storm clouds parting to reveal a bright summer's day, she looked at him and saw her partner... her friend... her silly, maskless kitty.

And she sensed he was starting to see himself the same way—as two halves of a wonderful whole.

Tears blurred her vision. She blinked and blinked and blinked again, if only to capture just another second of this moment—of his face and that joy and how perfectly it suited him. How she wished it was there every second of every day, pure and real and no less than he deserved.

Adrien tilted his head, a wry smile sneaking its way across his lips. "I'll furgive you, Bugaboo," he added, "for not mentioning my purrfect sense of humour."

She slid one hand from both of his and went to flick his bell. Upon realising it wasn't there, she found herself tapping his nose instead, and smiling at the way that made him chuckle. "I thought I'd leave at least some of the belly-scratching to you."

A minute later—as she savoured her favourite cake with a now-transformed Chat Noir—Ladybug realised their patrol hadn't gone at all like she'd planned.

And she was purrfectly fine with that.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #you times two #adrinette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien

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yastaghr · 5 years

Text

BTSB 15

New chapter of Broken Things Shine Brighter! You can find it on Ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431909/chapters/51072202

Or below the cut!

Blue shuffled back into the living room with his glass of water. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Papyrus perched on the arm of the couch, notebook in hand. It was a bit odd to see him in that position with his knees in his armpits and his socked feet gripping the worn floral print. He looked a bit like a plucked chicken. The pale pink pajamas weren’t helping.

“what- what’re you doing? that can’t be comfortable. why don’t you just sit on the couch like a normal monster?”

Papyrus looked up from his manic scribbling and smiled wanly. “nothing wrong with a little perching. besides, it’s your couch now. wouldn’t be nice to get my feet juices all over the place where you sleep.”

Blue chuckled. “dude, i’ve slept in way worse than foot juices. back when me and pap were on our own, we slept in the dump’s water and the city sewers. foot juices have nothing on that.”

“so you were abandoned, too?” Papyrus said bitterly, “i thought your world was supposed to be all sunshine and roses.”

Blue scrunched up his face in thought. Trying to remember something so far back was hard. “i think...i think we ran away. i can, uh, remember some pretty bad things about the people we lived with. stuff like withholding food for bad grades and waking us up with cold water. blows, too. i don’t think they ever hurt pap, but...they’re the reason my tail is so crooked.”

Papyrus practically purred. “so that was a tail. hard to tell under the bindings. sans and i have ones, too.” He slipped a long, whiplike tail out of his pants. It wagged slowly, but there were little sparkles coming off the end of it. “why don’t you just leave yours out?”

Blue winced. “dude, my tail is embarrassing. it twitches and jerks. it’s zig-zaggy. anytime it catches on anything it hurts like hell. it’s way too sensitive.”

“we’ve got ointments for that. sans needs them for his cracks, and muffet has them on her feet all the time. we can soak the stuff, too. please? our tails are a part of our monster heritage that annoys the hell out of the queen. we have to show them off.”

“really?” Blue was confused, “you want me to do something just to piss off a member of the royal family that can kill me on a whim?”

“no, duh,” Papyrus’ voice was wicked. “it’s not like you’re ever going to meet her. she never leaves her fucking palace. you’ll be safe. just rebel with me a little?”

Blue hesitated. Papyrus seemed really excited about this...and if it wouldn’t hurt, was it really all that bad? “okay. go get these ointments; i’ll unbind it.”

Papyrus pumped his fist. “yes!

----

Sans gulped as he stood outside the doors to the Queen’s throne room. He was the only person she ever let get this close. It was a huge burden, being her only contact with the outside world. He sometimes wished she would just die and free him from this contract. But no. That just wasn’t meant to be.

For all that he joked about her, Sans was terrified of their mad queen. He never felt safe around her, and some of the stuff she make him do...hurt. But he would die before he told the others. Literally. It was written into his bloody contract that if he told before the contract ended then his life was forfeit. He couldn’t bear to leave Papyrus alone. Not when the Queen had already shown him the unsigned contract bearing his brother’s name. No, better to pretend everything was fine and soldier on through. That was what he wanted to be, right? A soldier? Or was it? It didn’t really matter. It was what he had to be.

Sans steeled himself and shouldered open the heavy door. Purple light spilled out on him. It came from the reflected glare off of hundreds of dolls that filled the room. Lik always, their eyes seemed to focus on him. He knew better. There was only one of these dolls that could actually see him, and it avoided this room like the plague. No, these dolls weren’t sentient. They were just creepy as hell.

“Ah, Sans, there you are. I had thought our meeting was for 4 o’clock, not 3?”

Sans put on his slickest smile and turned to face her. She towered over him at 9’7”. Most of that was leg; she was easily 2/3 leg, and on top of that she wore heels. Sans couldn’t see why. At least, not in here. They only made her look untethered. They were always too small, too, so that the sides of her feet spilled out the top. Maybe they had once been the right size, but no longer. He wondered why she didn’t buy new ones. She could certainly afford it.

In addition to the heels, today Queenie was wearing a floral sundress with a mermaid skirt and cap sleeves. It was one of his favorites for the simple reason that it bound her legs tightly and made it hard for her to move fast. It usually meant he could get away from her if she was in a more...amorous mood. For that he was grateful.

“OH, BUT I THOUGHT FOR CERTAIN THAT YOU WOULD BE OVERJOYED TO SEE ME,” He said with a smirk. Besides, if he had waited until the appointed time she would have gotten impatient and mad a half hour beforehand and that never went well.

She smiled fleetingly at him in her version of a coquettish smile. “Oh, you. My whole day doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

He waved that away. “I KNOW THAT. BUT IF I CAN BRIGHTEN IT AT ALL IT IS MY DUTY TO DO SO.”

“Speaking of brightening my day,” She batted her eyelashes at him, “would you be so kind as to indulge an old lady with a story?”

Sans nodded. “WHAT SHALL IT BE ABOUT, MY QUEEN? A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR? A SORDID ROMANCE? A DRAGON AND IT’S HOARD?”

She giggled. “Nothing so fancy. I merely wish to know about your houseguest. He has caused quite the stir. I was under the impression that you and your brother were the only skeletons left.”

Sans quickly hid his nerves. He didn’t like that she was asking about Blue, but he really had no reason to be worried. Right? Right? “AH. I SEE. WELL, THERE IS NOT MUCH TO TELL. WE FOUND HIM INJURED QUITE BADLY. HIS STORY SEEMS,” Sans gulped, “UNBELIEVABLE. WE NURSED HIM BACK TO HEALTH AND HE IS REPAYING US BY WORKING WITH MUFFET ON YOUR DRESS.”

Her face sharpened. Sans clenched his fist. Damn. She’d caught on to him hiding things. “Now, I know you wouldn’t dream of lying to me, my counselor. Your contract binds you not to do so. So tell me more about this guest. Where did he come from? Why are you taking an interest in him? What is his name?”

Sans fought to keep every word he said inside his mouth, but it was in vain. “WE FOUND HIM IN THE BASEMENT. HE IS A SKELETON AND, AS YOU SAID, WE THOUGHT WE WERE THE ONLY ONES. HE’S CHOSEN TO CALL HIMSELF BLUE.”

Queenie scowled. “How dare you try to defy me! I can see the bitterness in your eyes. Have you forgotten your place, counselor? Or do I have to carve it into your bones again?”

Something inside Sans snapped. He snarled, “I REFUSE TO GIVE HIM OVER TO YOU, MY- NO. I DEFY YOU. DO WHAT YOU LIKE, I WILL NOT BEND.”

Magic the color of a sickly rose wrapped him in chains of fire. He felt the heat warping his bones through his fireproof clothing. He did not sway from his spot. All of his bottled up hatred was in his eye sockets.

She laughed an unhinged laugh as she slunk over to him, tilting his head up with one clawed hand. “I shall enjoy breaking you to the bit again. It has been some time since my torture chamber has seen use. You will regret defying me, counselor. I hope the fleeting adrenaline is worth the pain.”

#broken things shine brighter #sans #swapfell papyrus #swapfell sans #swapfell toriel #yastaghr

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tuwam · 5 years

Text

5 reasons.

‘your sister said you were asked by five guys already. what’s the reason you didn’t agree to go with one of them.’ // @consilian

five was a bit of an overstatement. maybe there had been five, but ahyeon doesn’t really recall all of them. she remembers them by reasons of course. because they’d been ridiculous, and a waste of her time. almost like the entire proposition of the ball. because why in the hell would hyuck be willing to go with her if it weren’t for something ridiculous cooking up his and minjae’s sleeve. that was always the case was it not?

and for that, she reminds herself to stay firm in her disregard for the question.

what other reason would she have to make a fool of herself, dressing up, dressing him up. and for what?

‘you know we’d look great together right?’

the first one came a bit out of nowhere. in fact, ahyeon wasn’t expecting anyone to bother her while she slaved away in the library. typically she used the quarters often occupied by other ravenclaw, but her prefect had requested a meeting there that she, wanted no part of. regardless, with the games going on, she didn’t expect anyone to approach her.

much less one of minjae’s idiot quidditch friends. a slytherin, lee siwon, and a pain in every potion professor’s ass.

“excuse me?” she has to divert her attention for her studies in order to actually get a look at him. sleek hair, gut-curling grin that reminds her of the guys her sister used to date. body flat and carefully posted against the bookshelf. he’s posing, that’s the first thing she notices.

‘the yule ball, you don’t have a date right? and I need a cute one.’

he’s full of himself. it’s more than a rumor but she can see it clear as day. ahyeon isn’t sure whether it’s offense she should feel at his assumption that she doesn’t have a date ( even though she doesn’t ) or indifference because she hadn’t sought one out.

“uh-huh. don’t you have practice to attend to?” ‘i’d rather go knowing you’d be there cheering me on.’

correction: he’s way too full of himself.

the confidence in the slytherin houses was as convoluted as it was condescending. minjae tended to have that same level of confidence. with lines like this ahyeon can only wonder who girls have managed to let him keep it. regardless, she’s got a potions exam in a few periods and less patience to deal with the slytherin quidditch player.

‘shouldn’t you be studying?’ she’s about to give him a few words of her own when the voice breaks in. it’s hyuck, books snug under his arm and something reeking of minjae’s terrible concealment spells leaking from the pages. “shouldn't you be instead of thinking of ways to avoid it?” almost immediately, hyuck’s grin is boyish. like the day ahyeon watched them get caught watching the national team through a portal in their textbooks. foolish.

she’s smiling though.

‘chapter eight is ass.’ “yeah yeah,” ‘wanna skip studying and cheer on minjae?’ “as if he needs another cheerleader.”

she’s packing her books anyway, space thoroughly interrupted and distraction welcomed. hyuck’s smiling like he knew she would, smug enough that ahyeon has half a mind to chant a zipper across it. instead she’s pausing at the male she’d completely forgotten, reminded if only by the cologne that smacks her in the face when she tries to walk by.

“siwon-ssi? guess i’ll see you at the game." but definitely not at the ball. if he’s smart, he’ll get the hint, but ahyeon’s already by hyuck’s side, ignoring all attempts he makes to lie about whatever scheme minjae had cooked up in their textbook.

quidditch is a pain. areum is a pain.

see, ahyeon isn’t a fan of sports like her sister. she rarely visits the field, can’t understand for the life of her why her sister is always decked out in her house colors, first in line to cheer on her team. she gets the sport, finds the snitch rather appealing, but can’t understand the appeal of chasing it. the boys are agile, strategic, she admires it. admires how some of them seem so determined in making this a career past Hogwarts, she can’t find fault in that. she’s just not the first one ready to scream and cheer for their points.

she does frequent the field more though, if only to toss her sister a cloak so she doesn’t get cold. grab hyuck when he knows he can’t miss another class or it’s cleaning duty in snape’s office.

the field grounds are always a battlefield, so ahyeon avoids them. today she has a reason, her sister once again forgetting her cloak and ahyeon dreading another letter about why areum keeps catching colds. so ahyeon’s out there, her own scarf wrapped tight around her as she looks for her firecracker of a twin.

“you’re going to get sick and your boyfriend’s not even here to nurse you, i refuse to do it.” that gets her colorful words muffled by ahyeon wrapping the scarf tighter and tighter with a small whisper out her lips. she’s ready to go, maybe take a nap or hit the dining hall with jieun.

‘ahyeon-ssi.’ at least, she’d planned on it. both ahyeon and areum turn to the voice. he’s got to be the same year as her, but she can’t remember his name for the life of her. gryffindor kid though, strange seeing as how he’s practically shaking. could be the wind. the smile is there, a little shy, boyish but not as charming as she’s used to. as if she’s used to anything. gryf’s have a weird habit or looking so oddly disturbed about everything - maybe it’s all the energy they have. she knows someone quite like that.

regardless, she gives him her attention. “yeah? kim eunho-- right?” she’s barely finishing the sentence, finishing the recognition before he’s bowing before her and half the entire school’s quidditch teams. ahyeon wants to disappear. her sister was the one for theatrics - not - her. ‘will you go to the yule ball with me?’

it takes ahyeon three seconds to come up with a response.

she sees, areum doing that thing with her eyebrow when she’s too involved in something - that she shouldn’t. she sees, the entire gryffindor team looking far too entertained and far too suspicious. she sees, someone in the bleachers, from what she remembers a hufflepuff with a thing for lavenders and the boy now bowed before her, running away.

her response is simple - just a little a push in the direction of lavenders as his rose morphs into the purple flower and he rises from his stupor.

"go.” ‘what was that about?’ jieun, ahyeon’s savior only asks after they’ve left the fields. "my sister thinks she’s funny. let’s go eat.”

( ‘i thought he was your type.’ “what?” ‘loud, rambunctious, boyish charm or whatever?’ “isn’t that your type?” ‘hyuck and soonyoung are way different.’ “what does hyuck have to do with this?” ‘.......aren’t you the smart sister?’ “meaning?” ‘nothing nothing.’ )

ahyeon is once again - not a fan of theatrics. not in the slightest.

what was supposed to be a simple snack before this godforsaken exam - has turned into a display of - testosterone and anxiety.

one minute she and jieun are discussing points for the test - the next the doors are slamming open and someone is quite literally, screaming her name.

‘SON AHYEON.’

“jieun make me invisible.” ‘sorry honey.’

the voice is shaky, lacks any bass though it booms across the dining hall. ahyeon doesn’t even want to turn but half the hall has so she might as well. she does, if only to see the fireworks crackling across as she does, and a very small, very forgettable hufflepuff standing beneath them. he’s one of jieun’s friends, which is why she hears her friend promptly choke as he makes his way over. he’s cute, still has his baby fat in his cheeks, a sweetheart who often forgets his glasses and wanders into the wrong house residence areas.

‘ahn seongwoo????!!!!!!’ fortunately, jieun takes the words out her mouth. the disbelief doesn’t stop the male from marching over, all eyes on him, sparkles literally falling around her. ahyeon would know that flair anywhere, and it’s definitely not that of a hufflepuff. that and - the bravado he walks with - the fact that his eyes are wide as saucers.

she braces herself.

‘I COULDN’T DENY MY FEELINGS ANY LONGER, WOULD YOU DO ME THE HONOR!’

ahyeon is gone before he can even finish.

hyuck finds her, curled by the steps, window overlooking the school under her foot.

‘was looking for you, we have a test you know.’ “yeah i know, how’d you find me?” ‘like i couldn’t, you’re predictable.’

was she? if she was so predictable why was she being put in these situations? as if people didn’t know she barely spoke to anyone other than jieun and her group of friends. as if people didn’t already have a title stamped on her from the first day the hat sorted her. cold, cruel, cautious, compelling despite all.

ahyeon preferred quiet, preferred her goals and learning about herself. enough to know that there was a reason she wore blue and black. enough to know there was nothing wrong with everyone’s perception of her, perception was just that.

so why - was she being thrown in the most contradictory situations. her frustration comes out in the form of a sigh. it’s then that she notices hyuck’s sat across from her. proximity be damned.

‘wanna hit up your favorite candy place after?’ “curfew?” ‘so yes?’

if she was so predictable, why was he the only one who could get the curve-balls correct?

they make it to the exam with three minutes to spare.

( seongwoo was excused from it due to literally passing out from embarrassment, ahyeon left him some flowers in the infirmary )

‘studying already i see.’

finally, ahyeon gets time in the ravenclaw studies - just to deal with this. lee yonghwa, an upperclassman, a certified genius in all he studies and with the attitude equipped to boast about it.

“we just tested on chapter eight, wasn’t too bad.” ‘obviously not for people like us.’ “like us?” ahyeon doesn’t dare look up from her book.

why is everyone so keen on bothering her today?

‘geniuses, the creme of the crop.’ “uh-huh. where is this going?” ‘i just figure, as the best we should naturally be seen together.’ “and where is that?” ‘the yule ball naturally.’

thing is, yonghwa is smart but the attitude of his makes it hard for others to approach him, making him something of an outcast among his classmates. ahyeon’s heard a lot about him in that regard, as jieun is the gossip queen and lets her know all that floats about the halls. ahyeon - despite her decision to stay away from circles, always remains the talk of some and has somehow found a circle of her own ( in part thanks to jieun ). she wouldn’t be boasting to say it was because of looks - because most of it was. she was unapproachable but of higher social standing - as jieun had put it.

it makes sense why yonghwa would want to take her.

he’d be cute - if he weren’t so calculated.

or obvious.

alas, ahyeon is shutting her book again.

“listen.” she’s interrupted by a note flying in from the entrance and attaching itself to her cheek.

‘chocolate frogs won’t wait for anyone.’ - h

“i gotta go.” the frown’s gone, replaced by a smile that’s almost immediately stamped firm on her face.

‘heard you got some offers.’ minjae is far too cunning than people give him credit for. if it weren’t for ahyeon knowing his sister’s reputation - it’d almost be a little concerning. she’d half expected this though, so when she arrives at the training field, she isn’t surprised to see him. cold, maybe a little irritated at the events of the day, but not surprised. “your magic seal is about as bad as hyuck’s.” that and - hyuck knows she hates chocolate frogs - with a passion. a fun day that had been. that and the treats they’d gotten immediately after the test are still snug in her pocket. which only means minjae had no intention on disguising himself effectively. ‘rude - i made it that bad on purpose.’ of course. “what do you want minjae?” ahyeon supposes she tolerates him, her friends seem rather fond of his looks, his smile, far too charming in her opinion, not enough room for error, not enough clumsier. not quite the kind that would catch her eye. he’s handsome but - maybe she’s too used to seeing him when he’s up to no good with hyuck. maybe then - she’s not really paying attention to him anyway.

but he’s hyuck’s friend and they’re a packaged deal. and she finds no one who gets her humor quite as well as them. minjae on his darker days when no one’s around. like now. ‘surprised you didn’t rat me out.’ “surprised you’d leave a messy trail on a hex like that.” ‘wasn’t really me, i just helped them sort things out.’ she woudln’t really rat him out, it’s none of her business. not that she isn’t curious why he’d agree to help hex seongwoo, or why anyone in slytherin would want to but her through that ordeal. though a quick thought only points to the idiot whose ego she probably busted earlier in the day. regardless, seongwoo’s safe and minjae’s business is his business. ‘you really rouged up siwon’s ego though.’ he’s laughing, almost like siwon isn’t that close of a friend of his. but then why would he even agree to that. it’s too much - being around minjae tires her. “what do you want?” ‘to know who you’re going to the ball with.’ her brows furrow, because if she’s the predictable minjae is the master at being her opposite. “why.”

‘let’s call it personal curiosity.’ and ahyeon isn’t quite sure what it is - the fact that he always grins like he knows everything, the confidence that’s almost uneasy, nauseating really, like he knows more about her than he should. or the fact that she might be right about her next question and the anger bubbling would make her hair stand if it could. “kwon minjae - are you about to ask me to the ball?” ‘would you say yes?’

is he crazy? he has to be crazy. ahyeon’s tempted to believe it’s another joke. not because it’s minjae and he would never in a million years ask her because - quite frankly she can never be too sure about him. but she is sure about his friendship - his loyalties - and there’s no way he’d ask her when hyuck’s his friend. no way. he has to be smarter than that! he has to know that - well that what? that obvious unspoken thing that her friends like to whisper to her about. that thing that makes her answer hyuck’s notes even in the middle of studying, leave her post just to go watch a game she can’t stand, sneak out to get candy she shouldn’t be eating.

that thing.

if anyone knows - it’s minjae. and ahyeon is appalled, almost too appalled to answer except -

“i’d shove the snitch up your ass.”

she’s fire-ready, but minjae’s always a step ahead. because he laughs, right in her face, heated and red as it’s turning in the cool courtyard. ‘unfortunately for you no. i just came to apologize for the dare. didn’t mean to embarrass you. but it seems - hyuck has already taken to making you feel better.’ “i do have an exam in the morning.” ‘you know, if you want people to stop asking, might as well ask who you want yourself. someone as popular as you - they might not think they have a chance.’ “good night, minjae.” ‘night ahyeon, tell your cute prefect i’m sorry for keeping you out late.’

( + )

ahyeon thinks of the reasons. logical ones really.

siwon was only concerned about his ego. whether he found her attractive or not, it wasn’t good to go just to maintain aesthetics. or feed his ego. ( he deserved getting knocked down a peg. )

eunho was dared by her pain-in-the-ass sister and his hair-brained team so of course it wasn’t genuine. and he’s having a good time after asking out the sweet huffelpuff who she has her history class with ( ahyeon’s gonna help her shop as an apology ).

seongwoo - was hexed. poor kid.

yonghwa - really only cares about elevating his social status. and come on - the reason for the no should be obvious enough.

she’s had other options of course, less flashy ones, notes on wands, questions written in air, people downright asking. prefects and jocks alike. upperclassmen, underclassmen, the works.

the simple answer would be she’s not interested.

it’s not the ball, though she says that anyway. it’s not really the guys’ faults either.

it’s just -

‘will you go to the ball with me?’

well they aren’t this loser.

#{ w: ahyeon. }#consilian #AU: HOGWARTS.

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fandammit · 7 years

Text

With sorrows to impart (4/5)

[A/N: The next part is the end I promise. Sorry this got away from me! Also, the dress that Penelope decides is this one and I love it so much.]

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 ||

Their only afternoon appointment cancels, so Dr. Berkowitz sends her home a little before one so she can pack for the weekend.

As she drives home, she runs down a list of things she needs to stop by Target to get before she starts packing -- 3 oz. bottles of shampoo, travel toothpaste, extra zip lock bags to hold her makeup.

She’s in the Target parking lot before the question even occurs to her, so she sits in her car and dials Schneider’s number.

“Hey,” he says, picking up on the first ring.

“Hey, so, do I need to get travel sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner or is it different for a private plane?”

“Yup, regular sized everything. They even provide regular sized blankets and pillows, so you can take a nap if you want.” He pauses for a moment, and she can hear rustling in the background. “By the way, what’s your shoe size? Because the plane provides warm slippers if you want them.”

“Seriously?” She laughs and shakes her head. So this is what it’s like to be Schneider. “Six and a half.”

“Preferred color?”

“Uh, no?”

“Ok, but don’t blame me if you get a color you actually hate.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Schneider.” She’s about to turn the car back on, then stops when something else occurs to her. “Oh hey, I’m at Target right now. Are there any snacks you want me to get?”

“For here?” He asks, sounding confused. “Because it seems like you guys just went shopping.”

“No, Schneider, for the plane ride.”

“For the plane ride?” He repeats, sounding even more confused. “I already requested that they stock the snack bar with cheetos, takis, a bunch of pastels and empanadas from Porto’s.”

“Wha -- seriously?” She says, narrowly avoiding what she’s thinking -- rich people seriously live a different life.

“Is that not what you would’ve wanted? Because I can -- .”

She shakes her head, then laughs because he can’t see her and because it’s both so absurd and sweet -- the ability to stock a snack bar with exactly what you want, the fact that Schneider knows her well enough to grab all her favorites.

“Schneider, it’s a two hour plane ride. I’m not really sure what it says about me that you felt like I needed all that food for such a short amount of time.”

“I just wanted you to have options.” He clears his throat. “And I just wanna say -- again -- that I really appreciate you doing this for me. I know it’s last minute and a hassle and -- .”

“Schneider, I’m about to spend Friday night in a private jet, eating chicken empanadas from Portos while I hang out with my best friend.” She hears him huff quietly into the phone and even though she can’t see him, she can imagine him smiling at her words. “That’s basically the opposite of a hassle. I mean, I’ve pretty much just described the best Friday night I’ve had in months.”

“Yeah?” He asks in a quiet voice, vulnerable and happy and hopeful in a way that makes her wish she was standing in from of him so she could give him a hug.

“Absolutely.”

She texts him halfway through packing because she’s too lazy to walk the flight of stairs up to his apartment where he, Elena and Alex are literally watching glue dry as they finish up the fake art project coffee table that Alex is now apparently a part of.

Do you have one of those bag things that holds nice clothes so they don’t wrinkle when you travel?

A garment bag?? And yes.

Do you have an extra one I can use?

I have one that fits two outfits, so we’ll just use it for both of ours.

Great! Thanks!

She puts her phone down, then walks over to her closet and looks at her three black dresses. She’s been looking at them for the last half hour without much luck, trying to figure out whether the black one she wore for last New Year’s Eve is too short, whether the one shoulder one is too quirky, if the long sleeved one isn’t dressy enough.

She tries to tell herself that it doesn’t matter and some part of her knows that. But the other, more insistent part of her argues that this is important to Schneider and so it’s important that she makes a good impression. She doesn't want him to have to worry about her while she's there -- not when all he should be doing is mourning the loss of his mother.

It's just her unfamiliarity with this side of Schneider worries her -- the side of him that has private planes with custom snack bars and garment bags that she's sure cost more than what she spends for groceries in a month.

She picks her phone back up.

Can you come down here and help me pick a dress? I wanna make sure I pick one that’s appropriate.

Whatever you have will be perfect, but ok. Give me a sec so I can make Alex and Elena stop playing with the wood router.

Five minutes later, she hears a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she calls out, getting up off her bed and grabbing the three dresses from her closet

Schneider comes in and sits down on her bed.

“Everything ok with the router?” She asks.

“Oh yeah, I turned on Mario Kart for them, so that’ll keep them occupied for the next hour or so.”

She snorts.

“An hour is pretty optimistic. You’ll probably have to hide that game to stop them from playing it.”

He shrugs.

“I gave them a key to my apartment so that they can finish up the table and use the playstation or nintendo or whatever they want while we’re away.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Schneider.”

“I wanted to.” He smiles at her. “So what are our dress choices?”

“Ok, so --.” She brandishes each dress in front of her in turn. “We have this one from New Year’s, but I think it might be too short and too sparkly. We have this one shoulder dress with this cape thing that seems a little too weird. And finally this long sleeved one that seems like it might be too casual.”

He looks carefully at each one, his eyes studying the shape of them. Then, he just shrugs.

“Honestly, you look great in all of them, Pen. Any one of those would be perfect.”

She tosses all three dresses onto the bed and sits down on the bed next to him, folding her legs underneath her but unable to keep herself from fidgeting as she stares at the dresses next to her.

He taps his fingers along the edge of his knee and stares at her closely.

“Are you worried? Or...nervous?”

“Well…” She looks away and shrugs before glancing back over at him. “Yeah, kind of? I wanna make sure I show up and make you look good. Or at least not embarrass you.”

He levels a small grin at her.

“You know that just showing up with me will make me look good, right? It won’t really matter what you’re wearing.”

She rolls her eyes good naturedly at him, but can’t help but smile as she does.

“Just -- I don’t want to be underdressed. Or overdressed. I just want to be dressed.” She sees him about to make a comment and nudges him with her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

He crosses his arms in front of him and worries the bottom of his lip for a moment before he begins talking.

“You know, father always looks like one of those stock photos of businessmen. If it were his funeral, I’d wear my best double breasted suit, my most expensive shoes, the platinum cufflinks he got me for my 13th birthday.”

She nods. That doesn’t surprise her, given the limited amount of information she knows about his father, even given the way he says father -- like it ought to be capitalized, as if it were a title rather than a relationship.

He glances over at her.

“But mom…” He breathes in deeply, looks away for a moment before glancing back at her with a sad smile. “She was an art museum curator, so she always looked way cooler than any of my friend's moms when she dressed up. I remember she had this dress that she wore to one her openings -- it was super bright blue and it had this cape attached to it that I kept grabbing and trying to hide in.”

He looks down and shakes his head.

“Uh, anyway.” He makes a sound that seems like it’s an attempt at a laugh, but sounds more like a strangled cough. He glances over at her and shrugs. “I haven’t really seen my mom in a long time, but I’m wearing the cufflinks I made myself, if that helps at all.”

“It does actually.” She gestures over to the dresses laid out on the other side of the bed. “So, the one shoulder black dress with the cape thing?”

He looks over at it, then nods.

“That one’s actually my favorite. It makes you look like a superhero.”

“Pssh, I am a superhero, Schneider.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

The plane is just what she imagines a private jet would be like.

“This is freaking amazing,” she says out loud for what’s she’s pretty sure is the fifth time in ten minutes. She walks around the length of the plushly carpeted cabin in her dark blue slippers holding a warm chicken empanada in her hands as Shneider looks at her with a mixture of fondness and amusement. “Seriously, Schneider, we’re thirty-nine thousand feet in the air, I’m wearing the world’s softest slippers while eating a fresh empanada from Porto’s.” She sits down on a long, leather couch next to him.” And now I’m sitting on a leather couch that probably cost more than my rent and it. Is. Amazing.”

He grins at her.

“I haven’t even shown you the best part yet.”

He gets up from where he’s seated next to her and goes to the far corner of the room, slides open a panel and pulls out a small tub and holds it up for her.

“I had them stock the plane with Cherry Garcia and -- .” He reaches into what she now knows is a freezer and pulls out another pint sized ice cream. “Haagen Dazs Dulce de Leche.” He slides the freezer door shut and pushes a button on the wall and she watches as the wall in front of her flips open to reveal a big screen tv. “Which we can eat while we sit and watch The Goonies.”

She puts her hand over her heart.

“I love that movie.”

He smiles.

“I know. That’s why I made sure they had it.” He lifts each pint of ice cream at her and raises an eyebrow. She points to the Dulce de Leche, which he carefully tosses over to her before turning and fiddling with a wall-mounted touch screen next to him.

She finishes up the last bit of her empanada as the movie starts up. Schneider comes back over to her and hands her a spoon before sitting down next to her with a pint of frozen yogurt.

They watch the movie for a few minutes and she’s about to say that this really is the best Friday night she’s had in months when Schneider starts to talk.

“My mom took me to see this movie for my ninth birthday,” he says quietly. “She and father had gotten divorced two years before and she traveled a lot -- you know, for work -- so I didn’t really get to see her that often. But when I was a kid, she and I always had a movie date to celebrate my birthday.” He adjusts his glasses, then glances over at her. “Luckily, I was born in June, so there was always something good out. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like if I’d been born in January when all the bad movies come out?” He shudders, then takes a big bite of frozen yogurt. “She’d always pick me up early and we’d go out for breakfast, then we’d watch the first showing. I always liked it because there weren't many people in the theater. I mean, we had a theater room at home, but there was something special about actually going to the movies.”

“Is that why you guys went early? So that you could have the theater to yourselves?”

He shakes his head.

“Father always planned a formal dinner party for my birthday, so mom had to have me back by 3 so I could get ready in time to greet the guests.” He taps his fingers on the mostly empty pint of frozen yogurt. “Me and mom would get out of the movie, get cake and ice cream, she’d sing happy birthday to me and then take me home.”

She tries to picture it -- an eight year old Schneider hopped up on cake and movie snacks, his mother dropping him off in front of a dreary castle with a sour faced butler waiting at the door. She’s pretty sure that his father’s mansion doesn’t look like Dracula’s castle, but she can’t shake the image from her mind.

“Which one was your favorite?” She asks, mostly to distract herself from her ridiculous line of thinking.

“Birthday?”

She nods.

Schneider pushes his glasses up, then turns and puts his arm along the back of the couch.

“One year, father was away on business, so mom didn't need to bring me back by a certain time.” He smiles brightly at the memory. “So we just stayed at the movie theater and I got to see Ghostbusters II, Batman, and Honey, I Shrunk The Kids all in one day.” He clears his throat. “I mean, I had nightmares for weeks after watching Batman, but it was all worth it.”

It goes on like that for the next hour or so -- her asking questions, him talking softly about his mom. She learns that his mom enrolled him in art class and piano and tap; that her office had an entire wall dedicated to the paintings that he'd give her; that her visits became less frequent after she got married when he was ten.

He mentions a car accident he’d gotten in with his mom on his twelfth birthday -- nothing major, he assures her, barely enough to dent the car.

“But father was livid. And he also has the best lawyers.” He crosses his arms in front of him and shrugs. “So after that, I only saw her once a year. Then not at all, really, the older that I got.”

It makes her ache -- how much he obviously loved his mom, how often he’d been forgotten or left behind. It makes her angry too -- because even if she knows that relationships are complicated, and even if what little she knows about Schneider’s father convinces her that he probably wasn’t exactly generous with parenting time after the divorce, the fact of the matter is this: once Schneider turned 18, there should’ve been nothing stopping his mother from having a relationship with him.

But instead, he’d turned 18 and had been sent away again -- this after a lifetime of being sent away or set aside, a childhood of being rejected and ignored by the two people who should’ve spent their lives doing the exact opposite.

And now here they are, flying to attend a funeral for a woman who hadn’t even ever bothered to tell her son that she’d gotten sick.

He speaks less and less the closer they get to Vancouver, like he's slowly disappearing into himself the closer they get to his hometown. She doesn’t try to force him to say anything, just leans into him, her back pressed against his chest as they both sit and watch the end of The Goonies is silence.

When the pilot comes on the intercom and tells them to expect turbulence as they begin their descent, he takes her hand. She's not sure if it's because he's afraid of turbulence or his approaching hometown or the fact that he still hasn’t cried yet over the death of his mother.

It doesn't matter. She just twines her fingers with his and decides that she won’t let go until he does.

#penelope x schneider #schneider x penelope #penelope alvarez #alvareider #one day at a time #schneider #my fic: alvareider

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happinesss-bliss-blog · 6 years

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A Journey.

This isn’t the least bit of easy to write. For years I’ve said that one day I’ll sit in front of a camera and tell the world about my struggles with mental health, but showcase the fact that it’s all behind me and I can live a normal life of joy. But as time passed, I’d tried to record that video up to 30 times and for some reason I simply could not do it. I’d open my mouth and the only thing that would come out is choked back tears because I knew I was not better. I was lying. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make a little girl, going through the same, believe that one day she’d wake up and her life would no longer be filled with constant regrets and worries.

So here I write as I listen to the saddest songs possible conjoined together in a sappy Heartbreak spotify playlist. I can’t say when it started because I genuinely do not know, but I can tell you what I do know. My whole life I was never like any of the other kids, I knew I was different. I towered over everyone (my growth spurt hit fast and out of nowhere) in 7th grade, which is the first time a boy on the bus grimaced as he pointed out my stretch marks that had began peeking through my tank top that’d slid up my side just a smidge. And that was the first time I looked at my body and hated it. I googled quick fixes, browsed around on “Pro Ana” sites, and began counting my calories. I wore long sleeves and when it was too hot for that I’d stack 20 bracelets on each wrist to hide the harm I’d done. I hated crowds. I hated people looking at me. I hated the THOUGHT of people looking at me.

August 2017 - I had just eagerly started my senior year of highschool. I’d come so far and I had so much to prove to those who doubted me. Starting out, I had built a stable school-ationship. Everyone knew me as the slightly shy yet bubbly girl, I was accepted on to the varsity cheer team, my grades were well-leveled, and before I knew it I fell in love. He was a football player, I was a cheerleader; I mean things couldn’t have been more Netflix teen romancey. I had never been in a relationship, at least not a serious one. I had given him everything I had to offer. But he cheated. And I took him back, every single time. But each time, I’d lock myself in the bathroom and stare into the mirror until I pointed out every single flaw, every reason why his infidelity was justified. I grew a hatred for eating and a love for workout apps. I’d stay up until 2 AM making sure I knocked out enough sit ups. Before I knew it, I’d lost 30 pounds.

January 2018 - I left him. I left for good and in doing that, I got involved with someone he knew. He found out. Everyone found out. Instead of walking into school excited to speak to people, I started coming as late as possible to avoid as much interaction as possible because the only thing they knew how to do when they seen me was whisper. Just that fast, I was no longer the shy bubbly girl but instead I had random people jokingly ask if I’d let them be next. I had girls threatening me for no apparent reason except for the fact that they knew my ex. Again, I stopped eating. Instead of staring into the mirror I’d sit in the tub with the showerhead pouring on to my head as I cried as loud as I possibly could. It was a constant battle on whether or not I should harm myself again. But one night I got a call, from him. Telling me how there had been a video taken of me that everyone had seen. And I saw my world collapse around me. I didn’t know what to do and the only thing I could think of was how there was literally no way i could show my face ever again. I grabbed a bottle of antidepressants and swallowed every single pill. AND DIDN’T DIE !! I remember waking up the next morning thinking about how I couldn’t even kill myself correctly. The pills numbed any source of emotion I had for days, until I had learned how to block out the memories.

February 2018 - I met someone. I felt as if i was walking on eggshells trying to avoid the pain I’d just been through. But he’d reassured me he was nothing like my past.

I was pregnant. If you went to school with me, you know that already. Since you know, everyone was asking everyone but me if I knew who the father was. But as for family, I nearly didn’t add this because of you. I nearly didn’t write this because of you. Not all of you, but you get the point. ANYWAYS, I was pregnant. After 4 weeks had passed, I got used to the thought. I was excited, had no idea what I was gonna do, but that didn’t matter because nothing was going right for me and I finally had something, someone to live for. I had a miscarriage 11 weeks in. Everyone either treated it like it was nothing or treated me like I was a piece of glass. I got pulled out of school. I no longer went on campus like everyone else, instead I sat in the back of an empty room and did my work for the day. Until that grew to be too much and I had to do my work from home. I thought my life no longer had a meaning, I was only a burden at this point. I started heavily drinking and smoking because it was the only thing that could numb the pain, even if only for a few hours.

May 2018 - I did it. I graduated. I walked across the stage, got my diploma, and I graduated. I should be happy. But yet in the back of my mind, I wondered who actually cheered for me from my class when my name was called. I looked around as everyone posed for pictures with their friends, and I was huddled in a corner getting flustered about lunch reservations with my family.

July 2018 - School starts August 13th. I have my classes planned out for the next two semesters. I AM going to be a Pediatric Registered Nurse. I AM going to get my drivers license along with my first car. I AM going to put 4 months rent down on my dream place. And I am on a journey to healing. To growth. To getting better. And no one can take that away from me. I’m still not okay. Sometimes I don’t comb my hair for weeks, sometimes I’ll go days without showering because I literally just can’t pull myself out of this fog that engulfs me at random times. Sometimes I make excuses to avoid social situations, even if it’s family. Sometimes I cry in the shower. But that’s okay. Because when I get out of bed, take a shower, clean the house, or brush my hair, I’m proud. I’m proud that I’m still here and i’m still fighting the chemical imbalance in my brain. I’m able to step back and see how strong I’ve become. If those antidepressants had worked, I would’ve never been able to choose my career path. I would never be able to feel this joy of school starting because it’s something I’ll be able to control. And im okay with it. I’m okay with all of it. Because it weren’t for my lows, I would’ve never been able to achieve these highs.

This is for every brown girl that is told that her feelings are invalid. That is ridiculed for something she can not control rather than helped. It’ll all be worth it in the end. And this is for EVERYONE who has ever been laughed at whilst dealing with anxiety/depression while in highschool. Highschool sucks! And not just as a “Oh everyone goes through it, get over it.” No. This needs to be more than just shrunk down to small highschooler problems. Listen to us when we speak up.

Thank you.

#depression #livingwithdepression #dealingwithdepression #growth #peaceofmind #lgbtq #highschool

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miriyos · 7 years

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blind eye (wc: 2,074) jt/tyson

Gabe looks between Josty and JT trying to explain his thought process — how he put two and two together to get a couple out of their rookies — to Nate when it clicks. “Oh my god. They were roommates.”

“What does that even mean?” Nate asks in return, confused.

It’s okay. Gabe is the captain. He can break it down more.

JT gets the call up from the Rampage first which gives him enough time to acclimate himself in Denver before one of his Rampage friends gets the call up too. That friend is Tyson Jost.

Tys, Tyson #2, Josty, the Jostmiester.

The spirit in the locker room for the most part is down. They’re not having a great season so really, all the Avalanche can really do is go up. They literally cannot get any worse than they’ve already been performing. As captain, Gabe is delegated to take care of all the motivational speeches and he tries, but he’s tired. He’s tired of losing, he’s tired of working on lines with chemistry that keeps missing the mark, and he’s tired of this season.

His captainly duty should lead him to making sure that Tyson feels welcome to Denver but he doesn’t have the energy. He tries and his effort ends up feeling half assed.

Rookies stick together though so instead of Gabe opening his home for the rookie, JT invites Tyson to go apartment hunting with him. JT is in need of a roommate and Tyson is in need of, well, a room.

Luckily, Tyson doesn't have to suffer for as long as the rest of them. He only plays the last few games of their season before it ends.

The Avalanche is a young team though. Gabe is more confident in their next season that something, literally anything will go right for them. So he goes back to Sweden for the summer to relax and train, attends some weddings, and comes back for a new season feeling refreshed.

Most things are the same. Others take Gabe longer to put his finger on.

*1*

“You left this at my house,” Josty tells JT, handing him an opaque plastic bag. Gabe can’t tell what’s inside but Tyson is already making his away across the locker room to be nosy.

“What’s in the bag?” Tyson asks, trapping both rookies into headlocks as he takes over JT’s stall to make room for himself. Jost admits defeat while JT tries to use his big body to wiggle out of Tysons grasp. “Bring us anything?”

“It’s just a jacket I left at Tys’s house,” JT replies. He even takes it out of the bag to show Tyson. The jacket is Rampage issued with his number on the shoulder and JT’s name on the back.

“You guys hung out over the break?” Nate butts in, his shoulders slumped. “Why don’t we do that?” he asks Gabe.

“You never called,” Gabe answers.

“You saw me over the summer,” Tyson points out to Nate, “am I not enough for you?”

Nate makes an awkward noise. “Yeah, of course, dude. You’re plenty.”

After practice Gabe logs onto his Twitter for the first time in months. Sitting on the top of his feed are retweeted pictures of Josty and Comphy standing in front of a lion exhibit. The original tweet is from Josty’s sister. The caption: third wheeling with these boys.

Just bros being bros, taking one bro’s sister with them to the zoo for... supervision?

*2*

Gabe gets used to Josty and JT sharing clothes. It’s mostly just Tys stealing JT’s things though. If not for the fact that JT’s Avalanche gear is always branded with his name or number, the visual of the sleeves making sweater paws when Josty takes JT’s stuff is indiciation enough to hint what is JT’s and what is Tys’s.

They’re roommates though. They live together in Denver and they’re roommates on the road too. Clothes can get mixed up. It’s happened to Gabe before back when he was a rookie. He wore Nate’s shirt for an hour before someone pointed it out to him.

He genuinely thought he had lost weight. The shirt fit looser than usual but he didn’t think much of it until he got an earful of chirping. Gabe became more careful after that.

After getting caught once or twice, Tys becomes more and more casual hanging around the hotel wearing the number 37. The exact opposite to Gabe’s strategy which puts JT in a situation where he announces, “I’m cold.”

Josty yawns, hugging his arms closer around himself. His eyes don’t leave Nate’s PSP where he’s trying to snipe all his teammates as he replies, “I have a hoodie in my bag.”

JT sighs although he digs through Josty’s bag with familiarity to pull out an Avalanche sweater with the number 17 on it. Gabe catches JT’s eyes drag over the name Compher stretched across Tys’s back. He puts on Tyson’s sweater then goes to reclaim his spot on the bed.

It’s not weird.

Bros sharing clothes. Not a big deal unless someone makes it a big deal. Gabe isn’t going to be that person.

*3*

All the boys get fitted for brand new suits for the Mile High Dreams Gala.

LG helps Tyson get mic’d up so he can go around to interview all the boys while Peter coaches him through the questions the fans want answered. Tyson nods through it all and then completely works by his own script.

“Are you interviewing the boys or hitting on the boys?” Dutchy asks, laughing.

“Well I don’t have a date so,” Tyson attempts to explain before EJ jumps in the conversation to chirp Tyson too.

Gabe laughs along with the rest of them for a moment, then dismisses himself to see what the rookies are up to. The gala is probably their first big media event. Unlike most teams, no pranks were played on the rookies. Gabe is just a good captain like that.

“How are you boys doing?” Gabe asks, approaching Josty and JT hovering around the buffet line. Barbs and Greer swerve around Tyson to avoid being interviewed before making a beeline toward Gabe.

“Tell Tys that that tie doesn’t match,” JT asks Gabe, poking Josty in the chest.

Josty laugh. “But you said I looked good. My mom picked out this tie and you picked out my shirt.”

“Yeah,” JT agrees, “but I didn’t know that you were going to wear that together.”

Gabe looks his rookie up and down, head to toe carefully. He’s somewhat of a fashion aficionado on the team. Still, he isn’t sure what’s wrong with Tyson’s outfit. “It’s not bad?” he says, sounding much like a question.

“Those are different shades of blue,” JT points out. “Blue and navy blue. And like, stripes. You can’t pair stripes with polka dots.”

“I don’t even know what navy blue looks like,” Josty says.

“It’s a nice color. I like it but you’re too blue,” JT tries to put lightly.

“Well,” Gabe says, wanting to make the rookie feel better, “I think you look good. You look like a real lady killer.”

Gabe gets called away by Nate asking for an assist but not before JT chirps Josty saying, “Well you’re definitely killing me.”

*4*

The Avalanche get scheduled to play on Valentine’s Day against the Montreal Canadiens at the Pepsi Center. The boys with relationships briefly lament the fact that they won’t be able to make any big plans for the day but ultimately, it’s game time.

It’s a revenge match since the Habs managed to kill their 10 game win streak.

The game ends at a reasonable enough time which means there’s enough time for them to go out to celebrate the win. The vote ends up being split between going out to a club or to a restaurant for some real food. Gabe feels too tired to go out partying.

“Okay old man,” Nate chirps once it’s officially decided that the team will just split up and go two places. Nate is a free man to go out since his girlfriend is back in Canada.

“We can drive together,” Gabe suggests to the rookies that decided on food.

Josty and JT exchange glances. “I can drive me and Tys,” JT offers. “You can take more guys if we take a separate car.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” JT shrugs. “We can just meet you guys there.”

“You guys know where you’re going?” Bernie asks, phone held in the crook of his neck as he tries to gather his things. “I’m going to pick up Martine and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll use my phone to find it,” Josty says.

Gabe is unable to wrangle EJ, Girard, Sven, and Barbs in a timely manner. They leave last and get to the restaurant just as Bernier and his wife are pulling into the parking lot. Gabe heads inside, his eyes peeled for his rookies when he sees Tyson and JT tucked away in the corner at a table for ten.

Sitting against the wall it kind of looks like they’re on a date.

None of his teammates blink an eye so it must just be Gabe imagining things.

*5*

Gabe gets a call that Avs 360 is doing a segment for Jost with color blind glasses. He’s asked to host so he shows up only to find JT dressed up on standby.

“He insisted on coming,” Lauren tells him. “He wants to host.”

It’s not really worth arguing over, plus, the less time he has to spend on camera, the better. His hair just isn’t working with him this morning no matter how much he played with it. Plus, it’s better for the fans to get to know the rookies.

He still doesn’t leave though. He kind of wants to be present when Tyson sees all the red, blues, and greens clearly for the first time.

One thing Tyson can’t stop looking at is JT’s hair.

“It’s like fire,” he says, clearly fascinated while he reaches out to touch. JT seemingly leans closer into Tyson’s reach but Tyson does not actually touch JT’s hair. His eyes haven’t left it though. “Has your hair always been this color?”

“Yeah, I think so,” JT replies. He licks his lips, which, weird, but could mean anything.

“What do you see in the painting?” Lauren asks from behind the camera.

Tyson doesn’t hear her because JT is still talking. “Guess me and your mom don’t have to help you get dressed for —”

“How do I look? In the glasses, I mean.” Tyson cuts in, blushing as he cuts his teammate off.

“I mean, like, as good as you can look,” JT says after a long pause. He does that thing, the lip licking, Gabe is trying not to pay too much attention to.

Gabe is prepared to be insulted on Tyson’s behalf. He thinks the rookie looks good but Tyson is smiling, clearly having a good time with the experience. He’s pretty much been beaming the entire time filming.

“So, like, not that good?” Tyson asks for clarification.

“You look fine, yeah,” JT confirms.

LG calls for the scene to cut for now so the cameras can be set up elsewhere for the last few closing questions. Gabe is about to follow but eavesdropping. He’s not strong enough to resist.

“So I really don’t look good?” Tyson seems to be asking again, putting his back to the rest of the staff present for the video.

The poor rookie doesn’t seem to realize his mic is still very much on.

“I think you look good either way,” JT says reassuringly with his head ducked down. “I can see your eyes better without them.”

Tyson pushes JT away from him, laughing with that same smile he’s had on since he walked into the building. They’ve probably expected that Gabe walked away with everyone else to move onto the next part of the video so the arm JT puts around Tyson’s waist is no illusion or mistake at all.

Gabe sees it.

He sees Tyson reciprocate the gesture, his hands coming up to JT’s collar pulling his teammate in closer. JT says something private, directly whispered into his teammate’s ear and that’s where Gabe draws the line of playing spectator.

“Where’re the guys?” LG asks when Gabe shows up in the hotel lobby alone.

Gabe shrugs. “I’m sure they’re coming.”

(The inspiration for the fic. Thank you, Avs 360.)

#myfic #jt/tyson #and they were roommates #5 things fic #5+1 fic #also having two tysons on the team #very confusing #had to switch between using names and nicknames #hockey rpf

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buckywintersoldierbarnes2017 · 7 years

Text

A Hidden Pain.

Request from anon: Could you please write a Bucky x reader where she works as the teams assistant? She's got a violent bf but no one knows about it until he assaults her at one of Starks parties. Bucky steps in and kicks his ass. He helps her move out of her place to live with him since he's got his own floor at the tower.

Note: Hope this is okay anon! Sorry it’s long!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2,488

Warnings: Domestic violence, injury, angst and swearing.

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3

A Hidden Pain Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

“Do you fancy any of them?”

“What?”

You were stood in the kitchen with your long-term boyfriend Josh after an incredibly stressful day at Stark Tower...his paranoia was the last thing you wanted to be dealing with but yet again it was rearing its ugly head; only this particular subject had you more confused than it did angry.

“Do....you.....fancy them?”

As though he was speaking to someone who was new to the English language Josh slowed down what he was saying, taking a step closer to you with each word he spoke, and made sure that each one was as clear as day.

“No! Of course I don’t. They are my friends.....my work colleagues! It would be compl-“

SMACK!

Before you were even able to finish your response to his absurd question his hand met with the side of your face with such force that you lost your footing and fell to the side. Your head connected with the sharp corner of one of the kitchen worktops and your knees would have hit the floor had he not grabbed you by your throat and dragged you up onto your feet.

The anger enveloping his eyes was a look you had become all too familiar with over the course of your three-year relationship, even the smallest thing could set it off, and so you shut your lips and remained silent to avoid any further injuries. There was only going to be so many times you could find a believable story to tell the guys at work when they saw the marks he left on you.

At first he had attempted to only put them where others wouldn’t notice....now he just didn’t seem to care at all.

“You are nothing but a dirty little slut [y/n]. You’re going to learn one of these days that you are mine. NO ONE else’s.”

He squeezed your throat to the point where no slither of oxygen was reaching your lungs, your desperate gasps for air were the only thing that could be heard, and then after only a few short seconds your eyes rolled into the back of your head as everything went black. The last image you had before you passed out was the man you had once loved so much snarling at you as though you were nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Walking through the main doors of the tower you avoided the gaze of anyone that walked past you, even those who actually voiced out a polite greeting, you hated doing so but there was a part of you that was convinced that should they look in your eyes they will automatically know everything that had taken place the previous night. Of course you knew that to be an impossible feat but it didn’t subdue your anxiety about it. You had woken up on the cold, hard, floor of the kitchen when the sun starting to rise up into the sky and instantly it had felt like a hammer was being pounded against your head over and over again. The cut to your head hadn’t fully stopped bleeding and so your first task of the day was to cover it up with a small plaster.

Looked silly but it was far better than having it on show when blood was still seeping from it.

Once the doors of the elevator closed shut you let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t even realised you had been holding this whole time and dared to turn around and inspect yourself in the mirror that covered one wall of the small space you were in. A small fashion scarf was wrapped around your throat to hide the dark bruising that lay underneath and the bags under your eyes were so dark they could so very easily have been mistaken for two black eyes.

You really did look quite the state.

“Good morning Miss [y/n].”

You barely even noticed that you had arrived on your intended floor when the unmistakable refined accent hit your ears. You quickly turned around to face the person who had greeted you and forced as big a smile as you could muster onto your face.

“Good morning Vision.”

“I have the mission reports here that you need. The team are waiting in the board room for you.”

With that he gave you a slight bow of his head before disappearing from view completely. After all the stress of the previous night you had completely forgotten that you were going over the reports with the rest of the team. The thought of being in a room with them all given the state that you were in made you feel sick to the stomach....you just hoped your exhaustion wasn’t as obvious to them as it was to you.

“Morning guys. Sorry to keep you waiting. Traffic was a nightmare this morning.”

The chatter that had been going on between the group stopped the second you stepped into the room. The first person to speak out was Sam.

“My offer to fly you here still stands you know [y/n].”

“That’s very kind of you Sam but I like to keep my feet firmly on the ground thank you.”

A wave of laughter travelled through the room at your remark as Sam just threw his hands up in surrender.

“Okay. Here are the mission reports from the incident you attended yesterday. Now I know it didn’t go quite as well as we would have liked it to but you all managed to get enough information for the other agents to work with.”

You started to hand out each of the files that Vision had handed to you. Everyone started to read through the report the second it touched their hands and as you handed the final one to Bucky the sleeve of your shirt rose up above your wrist and revealed some old bruising that decorated the skin. His hand immediately reached out towards your injured wrist but you moved away from too quickly for him to succeed in inspecting the bruising further.

The rest of the meeting consisted of Bucky’s blue eyes never once looking down at the report he should have been reading but instead staring at you rather intensely. He was your closest friend out of all the guys here and although you had never told him anything of your violent home life he seemed to have quite the intuition when it came to you not being quite yourself.

“Okay, I’m bored now, all of this is too organised for me.”

Tony Stark threw his file down onto the table with such force that the loud sound it made as it met with the table snapped you out of the staring competition you had been having with your friend. You looked over at the older man just as he threw his legs up onto the large meeting table.

“Party tonight. 8o’clock. Bring your partners, fuck buddies, whoever you want. I want this place busting to the seams tonight.”

“Right, well, I guess the meeting is over guys. See you all tonight.”

You raced out of the room long before Bucky had the chance to follow you. Last thing you needed right now was a mountain of questions.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You arrived a few minutes late to the party after having a thorough check of what you were wearing by Josh. He demanded that you wore nothing that showed off any part of you to the men that would be in the room and, a little hesitantly mind, you finally settled on a simple pair of jeans with a nice long-sleeved top and a pair of heels to finish it off. The scarf was missing tonight but only because you’d had the time to cover up the bruises with a number of layers of foundation.

The second you walked through the doors the loud music hit your ears and you instantly struggled to speak above it loud enough for Josh to hear you.

“The bar is just over there! Shall we go get a drink?”

He nodded in response but his eyes weren’t on you. They were on everyone else in the room as though he was searching for someone in particular. He kept you as close to him as was possible, even when his attentions were on someone else entirely, by wrapping his arm around your waist tightly. His fingers dug into your hip painfully.

It was while he was speaking to someone else that Bucky slid over to you. Literally. It must have been his attempt at dancing because it had a rather over the top flair to it that had a laugh erupting from your lips. A laugh that caught the attention of Josh right away as he turned his head to look at the male. A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the man suspiciously.

“Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could possibly have a dance with your beautiful girlfriend?”

The smile on your face grew at the prospect of finally having some fun but with the tone that Josh spoke his next words in you knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“She’s busy mate. With me. I suggest you find someone else to dance with.”

With his warning issued he pulled you even closer and waited for Bucky to head back to the dance floor. God how you wished he hadn’t gone. Least with him right in front of you Josh wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you. Now though there was nothing stopping him – everyone else in the room was more interested in having fun then watching the tense couple at the bar.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

A chill ran down your spine at how dangerous his voice sounded; this was how it always started. Already both your hands were trembling as the colour drained from your face.

“What are you talking about?”

In his eyes that very question coming from your lips made him look stupid, like he was imagining it all, but he was more than convinced that you were sleeping with the male that had just approached you. Without so much as another word he raised up his hand just as he had done the previous night and brought it down hard across your cheek. Unlike last night though you didn’t have time to stumble away from him before he drove his fist hard into your stomach.

That was the blow that not only took your breath away but had you falling to the floor with a hard thud.

Unknown to you as you lay on the floor cradling your sore stomach Bucky had witnessed the whole thing and at super-human speed he launched himself from the dance floor to where Josh was standing rather smugly at the bar. The only time you knew of anything happening was when you saw your boyfriend falling into the now smashed up bar.

Bucky’s metal arm had collided with him so hard that his body had no choice but to hit the bar which broke on impact.

“Bucky! No!”

Your desperate cry wasn’t answered as your friend hit your boyfriend over and over again. There was no stopping him and Josh wasn’t even able to move under the hold Bucky’s other hand had on his throat. The usual look in his bright blue eyes had vanished and was now replaced by a much darker one. He was determined to make the scumbag pay for what he had done to you. The very sight of your friend becoming such a wild animal sickened you more than seeing the injuries that were being inflicted upon Josh and before anyone could help you up you jumped up and ran out of the party completely.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You will never lay another finger on her again you bastard! Only a goddamn coward hits a woman!”

It took Steve, Sam and Natasha a substantial amount of effort to pull him away from the unconscious man on the floor. He was beaten beyond recognition and already people were backing away from Bucky as though they were frightened of him. Josh’s blood had splattered onto his face from the numerous punches Bucky had subjected him to which didn’t help. That was when he noticed you had disappeared.

“Shit.”

Throwing Steve’s arm off him he too left the party in a hurry. Desperate to find you. He had no idea what had taken hold of him back there all he knew was that he couldn’t allow him to lay another finger on you. He wasn’t stupid....he knew it must have been going on for a while and seeing him touch you like that brought out an anger inside of him he had never felt before.

“[y/n]?”

He found you huddled up in a foetal position outside the door to his living quarters. Each tear that rolled down your cheek hit him like a punch to the stomach and rather than getting you to sit up he lay himself down on the floor next to you and draped his metal arm over your body so he could pull you close.

“I can’t....I can’t go back home. He will. He will kill me. Please don’t make me go back.”

“I would never allow you to go back to him doll. We are going to collect your stuff tomorrow and you are going to stay with me for as long as you need to okay?”

You nodded weakly and that was when Bucky stood himself up and leaned down so that he could scoop you up into his arms. He held you close as he took you into his room and lay you carefully onto his bed. Your top rose above your stomach as he did and immediately his eyes were drawn to the large bruise that had already formed there. To save some of your dignity he covered it up without saying a word about you.

“You are safe here. Nothing can hurt you now.”

As soon as he joined you on the bed you buried your face into his chest, your cries now muffled against the fabric of his shirt, it broke his heart to see you in such pain. So much so that even he, a super soldier, a man that had been trained to be a weapon couldn’t stop a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. His lips placed the softest of kisses onto the top of your head as he kept his hold on you.

He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight anymore. That was the night he silently vowed to himself to protect you for as long as he possibly could.

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myhauntedsalem · 4 years

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True Ghost Stories and Tales of the Supernatural

1. A Baby Crying

2. The Man with the Suitcase

So far, no one else from my family has seen him. I haven’t seen him again ever since, but for a while it really scared the shit out of me to be home alone.” – rraarraarraasputin

3. The Exorcism

4. The Morgue Door

“Used to work hospital security and we had video cameras accessible in the office.

5. The Haunted Hotel

6. Echoes of the Past

“When I was little I saw a recurring ghost. She would appear for a split second and then vanish, but I could always perfectly recreate the image.

So, not a scary supernatural encounter but rather a heartwarming one knowing the great aunt I never met was saying hello.” – Omni_Omega

7. Alone in the Chuch

8. The Escaped Prisoner

“I worked in a maximum security prison for awhile. I was assigned to central control one night, which is where the camera screens were.

9. Calls From the Old Morgue

10. The Footsteps

“When I was about 12 our family moved into a new house—new to us, actually quite old. It was in our same village but down a different lane.

Every night, around 11 or so, I would hear footsteps walking at a fairly slow pace right down the hall, from the end guest suite up past our rooms and away down the hall to the living room.

Then they would come back—same footsteps, break across the rug, resumed on the other side.

#True Ghost Stories and Tales of the Supernatural #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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glnovels · 4 years

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【GL Novel】A Life, lived - Chapter 1

Author: Wu Xin Tan Xiao

Translated from Chinese to English

-------------------------------------------------------

Snow in the North is heavy. Should you look out into the distance, there will be nothing but white. Rooftops and tiles are piled with thick layers of snow, showing only some dark colours on the edges. Not many live on the outskirts of the North, with the villages being populated with merely hundreds of residents. However, today was slightly different. Many villagers gathered around at a small inn to catch a glimpse of the incident.

Maybe the days in the village are often to peaceful and boring, to the point that a tiny little incident would catch the interests of many spectators.

"That little beggar is stealing food again. Heavens above…" One of the villagers murmured.

Another soon joined the conversation, "Beggar? Beggars are human! That little kid was raised by the beasts in the mountains and doesn't even act human! I bet that creature came to our village because of the shortage of food during winter!"

"Look at it, barely at the age of seven I bet. Filthy too. I can't even make out if it's a girl or boy. Old Zhu's going off!" Little would one expect to hear excitement from the villager's words.

"Little brat! How dare you steal?! I would love to see you try again!" Two steamed buns were stolen, and Boss Zhu is furious. When words became redundant, he soon started to get physical despite knowing that she was nothing but a child. The tiny beggar curled up in a ball on the ground, shaking uncontrollably as fists and kicks landed on her thin frame. Noises started to sound from the crowd. Most of them were just here as spectators. Some were cheering, others wore disproving looks, but no one dared to stand up and stop the beating.

The little beggar was covered in dirt from head to toe, her hair tangled. Hiding her head between her curled up legs, she wore nothing but rags, barely enough to cover her body, let alone protecting her from the freezing cold. She had injuries too, and a swollen wrist that had been infected for quite a period of time, possibly from a fatal accident. Amongst the chaos, her whimpered silently like a puppy, but no one notices or even cared.

As the sky began to darken, so dark that no stars could be seen but only the snow glowed, the spectators finally decided to leave after getting the entertainment they have sought. Boss Zhu picked the beggar up by her rags and threw her by the corner, not forgetting to spit at her before slamming the inn door.

Snow started to fall within the night. Down North, the snowflakes seem to be bigger and colder. Gently, they fell, dancing as the wind blows. The beggar shivered in her corner. If someone were to walk pass, they would see what seems to be a black block of trash being buried within the snow. The snowflakes caressed her skin, but after being stripped of its beauty, nothing but coldness remained.

The darkness seemed to be growing, until she no longer had the energy to shiver. As her breaths became inaudible, there was nothing but silence - and death.

On the village roads covered in white, there lied only the whispers of the wind and snow.

----

But something changed.

The snowflakes danced a little differently, accompanying them were soft sounds of crushing snow. Someone walked on the streets holding an umbrella. It was a pair of white boots - extremely well made - its master taking her steps steady and soft.

She held the paper umbrella in her right hand as she wandered on the streets of the North. Her eyes were calm as they surveyed the surroundings, quiet and soothing like a serving of tea. She was born like this - cold, indifferent, cool, and distant.

Nan Yang's feature were soft but sophisticated. One not from earth, but from the heavens - pure and void of earthly colours. Her long raven hair rested on her back like silk, one could not help but desire to feel its smoothness. She wore nothing but white, her broad sleeves graceful in the wind. It was as if no one would be able to do what she does - to dress in pure white, like the purest lily grown on snowy mountain peaks, and the first bloom of magnolia on the trees of Kunlun.

She looked young - no older than twenty, but her aura gave different messages. There was this coolness, this indifference in her, that would only be possible after seeing too many truths in this earthly world. It was this indifference, that made her seem distant and inapproachable.

But her stopped abruptly in her track having sensed something. Narrowing her eyes, she saw the thing buried under thick layers of snow in the corner.

It wasn't a thing, but a child. A young one at that. Nan Yang pondered for a while, shook her head and continued walking.

But she stopped again before completely passing by.

Her brows twisted slightly. At last, she approached the corner with a sigh. The soothing voice whispered.

"Still alive. But barely."

She couldn't help but soften her gaze. Putting her umbrella aside, she bent down in front of the child and placed her hand on the child's rigid back. Her gaze was so gentle, like the Buddha caring for all - no one would dare to taint such holiness.

Unexpectedly, the beggar raised her head in a flash, a pair of black pupils met Nan Yang's gaze. Her face was covered in soot, but her eyes were still untainted. The child tightened her left hand into a fist, alert yet also frightened.

Nan Yang held onto her fist with her palm. It was like holding onto a block of ice. She saw the child's right hand. The flesh was heavily damaged and appeared swollen. Her tendon was forcibly cut by someone.

Nan Yang couldn't help but frown. How could someone be cruel enough to cut the right hand tendon of a child of merely five or six?

The black pupils of the child started to avoid her gaze. Nan Yang's heart ached.

After a long while, Nan Yang tried her best to soften her tone, using her most gentle voice,

"Would you like to… come home with me?"

The little beggar grew up in the mountains, raised by beasts. She didn't understand Nan Yang. But in her head, flashbacks of the ugly faces of the humans this morning, the beatings and the scolding, and the pain on her body crushed onto her like boulders. She curled up into a tighter ball. Yet she found herself confused.

The person in front of her right now is different. She has a warmth, a warmth that calmed down the beast in her.

Nan Yang did not receive an answer from the child. She knew she was unable to understand her. Taking matters into her own hands, she carried the child with one arm. The dirt had stained her white clothes, but she did not care. Carrying the umbrella in her other hand, she carefully blocked off the snow for the little girl.

This time, she didn't walk. Instead, she took flight. Her Qinggong was well-practiced, and it didn't take long for her to completely disappear, leaving behind the falling snow of the North.

Some notes: 1. The main character name is Nan Yang, pronounced "Nan Young". 2. The North is Northern Xinjiang today. 3. Kunlun could be talking about the Kunlun mountains today. It holds great cultural value and is super super long and tall. 4. Tendon in the right hand - in the world of Wuxia and cultivation, one's hand tendon is super important. If your hard tendon(s) get (s) damaged, you're pretty much screwed and have to start from square one. 5. Qinggong is a martial arts technique where the person's body becomes super light so they can literally "fly".

#GL #Novel #Yi Shi Qing Huang #A Life Lived #new chapter #Chapter 1

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angisam · 7 years

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Your wild side

tumblr (english) 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8/

tumblr (español) 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

AO3

chapter summary: Reconciliation after the storm

Tag: underfell au , Fellwolves au, bad language (I do not cut anything at all) , violence, fight ,”gore”, experiments, panic attacks, I’m bad to describe things as labeled …

character chapter: underfell!Sans , wolvesfell!Pap, Frisk, Flowey

word: +2000

Chapter 9: reconciliation

He made his hand to his head just thinking about the mess Sans had just made. His new plate of gazpacho with the recipe improved had spilled over his brother and all over the floor. A few weeks ago found in the landfill a foreign recipe book, it was very mistreated, some leaves had been destroyed and others could not read well what they put, the gazpacho was something that caught his attention because of its simplicity. The only problem was that the quantities were blurry and Papyrus had to go blind with the amounts... he had found the exact balance of flavors after reaching the nearly two liters of gazpacho ... and now everything was spilled through the kitchen. He raise my head to face disaster ....

- "SANS ... DON'T YOU DARE" - but it did not serve his warning when the other began to shake off and mess up completely the whole kitchen with gazpacho; Walls, floor, and utensils even the same Papyrus was dirty now.

Something of the slender skeleton rose from within. He began to scream at him about his disaster and the extra work he did not have time to clean, his eyes expelled fire from pure rage, while the other was frightened by the drastic change of behavior, fleeing him as far as he could while observing those eye Of murderer until finally it hit the wall, now it was caught between the refrigerator and the screaming demon that approached to him without being able to avoid it.

he catch a paw in anger and lift the frightened skeleton- "YOU WILL NOT GO OUT OF HERE UNTIL YOU WASH YOUR DIRTY PAWS, DO NOT ALLOW YOU POLLUTE MORE ROOMS" - released his grip making him fall down his ass in the floor. He was going to get up when he felt the gravity becoming stronger immobilizing him in the room - "* SIGH * STAY QUIET" - turned around and left the kitchen, slowly felt gravity become lighter as the other was moving away. He held still for an indeterminate period until he was assured that it was safe to move, he felt still heavy enough to move nimbly but still enough to move around ... slowly and with utter difficulty. He went a few steps forward until he heard the steps again accompanied by a drastic increase in weight. When he entered he saw that he was carrying more clothes with him.

- "REMOVE THAT CLOTHES" - Papyrus command by controlling his tone and sounding more authoritarian

His pupils contracted at such an order, Sans's body began to tremble slightly, it was almost imperceptible. Bad memories flashed through his mind.

He did not move even though the strength of the blue magic had diminished, he was not yet sure if he could understand what he was saying, so far as it seemed that it was not. Cheer audibly leaving the clean clothes on one side of the floor and beginning to undress the other.

"SANS, STAND STILL" - Sans kept moving, pushing him with all four legs trying to get away from him. Why such sudden scary behavior?

"IT'S JUST REMOVE JACKET NOTHING ELSE, BE QUIET!" - and to no one's surprise didn't obey. Papyrus had no other than to immobilize him completely.

When he unbuttoned the dirty wear, he wasn't only surprised that he was not wearing any other clothes underneath; he could see scars on his brother's chest. New and strange scars.

It was covered with cuts and small holes undoubtedly of needle pricks, much of these were placed in the sternum and the neck. But the icing on the cake was the metal piece screwed into the collarbone where it was clearly read;

Suj: 1-f3

Cod: 120728

He began to shake, knowing now what had happened to Sans, the reason for his change.

"S-SANS, WHO HAS DONE TO YOU THIS?" - his voice was heard more angry than frightened but the latter being very clearly noticed by his trembling. I could not stop seeing the disgusting sign. Brother's struggle gave up something he did not realize at first, which he regretted at once since he now knew why; he was having a panic attack.

Blinding lights, pain, fear, pain, noises and more noises, eyes looking over his, bonds, continuous dizziness, fainting and more pain. Too. Too much.

"SANS!" - His eyes kept looking in all directions, his bones sounded in the continuous tremors and his breathing defined his own anguish - "SHIT, SANS!" - put Sans back in a seated position and evaded instinct To shake him- Sans just pushed him away from him. Making a ball covering his head and whimpering on the floor. Papyrus did not know what to do before this. Worst of all, he knew he had started this. His brother from the first moment showed signs of overwhelms and he simply ignored them. He had never met in this situation of overwhelming did not know what to do as solve it, never saw the other so broken, never saw anyone break like this!

It was then that he remembered something his brother did when he was little and he was afraid.

He felt as if he was being picked up. he was too scared to face them. It was better this way, the faster it would end.

There was silence and some swaying as he began to touch her head but when he looked up he did not see an unknown face with bad intentions, but a very familiar one. A face that represented security. It represented happiness.

Strong breaths ceased and the heavy rattle ceased to be heard even though it was still shaking and breathing irregularly but now there was more peace.

"There's nothing to fear, you're safe with me." Papyrus repeated the phrase he so often heard in his worst moments. When under the eyes you saw eyes that you were no longer of hate but of ... joy?. He was a little surprised when the other buried his head in the hard chest of his armor and hugged him hard. Papyrus knew how to act now.

They were on their knees and hugging for a while until Papyrus tired of his position decided that it was better to be sitting on the floor while, without breaking the embrace, I put Sans in his lap between his legs sitting him to the side. He did not want to break that moment of peace between him and Sans.

For years their relationship had only moved away, more and more. One of the main reasons was because of his authoritarian nature and the pride of the other. Together they did not make a good combo. Situations like the one that had just happened happened daily and only to think like moments before was put only it brought shame to him. The only thing he had needed to realize was that his brother had an attack. In the underground the most valuable thing that could be had is the family, was something that not all could have or in which to be able to trust. In many occasions loved ones was the only thing that helped you to move forward. And Papyrus was losing all that for stupid fights.

The moment he was replaced in a sitting position with the other was more aware that that monster was not his brother but the monster that had him arrested. I had told him that I would be safe with him but that would have to be a lie, he was his main enemy these days ... right? In the forest I attack him - [after he threatened and attacked him first] - he locked me and chained him [I healed you, he brought you to a warm place and I feed you] - I attacked you [I smashed everything]. He was distressed when he realized that all the other's "attacks" had actually been responses for his uncooperative behavior. Apparently he wanted to help.

SANS, ARE YOU BETTER NOW? "He asked as he kept stroking his head, for some time he had not received affection from anyone.

The smaller one looked at him tired and guilty in his eyes, did not expect him to answer his question was not even sure if what he started to do could be considered as such.

he stretch your arm to Papyrus's face, revealing how the larger man's face went from surprise to intrigue by touching his nose.

After that it was a bit atonic. Papyrus repeated the act on his own nose to remove the remains of gazpacho that the other had left. I did not understand the meaning but after all ... it was an answer. Right?

He grabbed Sans from the arms and picked him up as he rose from the floor and placed him on the counter. From a drawer I took out a rag, opened the faucet to wet it and draining the excess.

"SANS, CALM DOWN" - and with that soft tone he began to wipe his face, then following his legs. This time everything was very quiet, something that Papyrus thanked very much. He remembered that he had to Heal your wound , but when he went to inspect he had completely recovered. I knew that the food would help, but given the insufficient magic that Sans's body must have had, it was surprising to have a quick healing.

He needed to check one thing.

"COME HERE," he said as he headed for the pile of clothes. Sans came down from the counter and approached the taller skeleton - how about trying something more specific - "IT WILL BE BETTER THAN CHANGE YOU" - I look at him first and then crouch to the pile of clothes grabbing the clean jacket. Changing it after removing the one he was wearing.

So he could understand what he was saying.

When he raised his head he saw that the other had changed his clothes too; He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and normal jeans, much more comfortable and lighter than his previous outfit.

"Go sit in the sofa to wait" - he left the kitchen and went to find the sofa, actually he didn't know what a "sofa" but in the room there were many more things than a couple of furniture so it was simple to decipher was it . From now on he would obey without complaining he had finished making the hood with his behavior, the monster was a friend.

When he got bored he went to see what the other was doing so long. He shook his head and saw that he was wiping the wall with a damp cloth. Maybe he could help with his mess.

He was surprised to hear the tap run but more be surprised to see Sans fasting to clean the other wall with gazpacho. He stared for a while as the other cleaned the wall and returned to clean his own wall. Amazing.

It was 6:30 when the kitchen stayed flawless.

"THANK YOU FOR THE HELP" - "bark!" - hearing the bark only made him hurt even more than he already felt .... At least the behavior change had been drastically improved.

He was very tired, the last few days he had hardly slept looking for Sans and today it had been exhausting. Could start the tour at 9:00 a.m. and do your daily patrol at 9:30.

"* YAWN * DO YOU WANT GO TO SLEEP? - by Asgore say yes. Sans wagged his tail. Great- "I WILL TAKE YOU TO YOUR ROOM, FOLLOW ME"

Papyrus collapsed on his bed making a last effort to position himself correctly. he let his brother lie on his bedspread and before leaving the room I explained that he would be left alone and not leave the house.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

BAM BAM

What the fuck?

BAM BAM BAM

I look at the clock. 7:26. Who the fuck was knocking at the door at this time

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM

Now they sounded stronger and faster. Oh no ... It can't be. He jumped up and ran to open the door, just as Undyne supposed was there.

"UNDYNE?"

"I want to talk to Sans"

Shit

#fellwolves #wolvesfell #underfell #fanfic #fanfic undertale #wolvestale

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